Devil's Trill
by Le KING
Summary: L was a genius murderer, and Light really wasn’t supposed to live past their first encounter. Unfortunately, L fell in love, and L's love hurt. LxLight AU
1. Sightseeing

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I am not smarter than a fifth-grader and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil  
**

**CH1 **

**Sightseeing**

As usual, Yagami Light won.

As to what it was that he actually won though, Light hadn't a faintest clue. Because really, his very _off_ coordination and the suspiciously not-full bottle in his hand all the while venturing out of the strictly clubbing district of Kanto were in no way suggestive to just what it was he was up to this late Saturday night a day before the exams.

But he definitely knew he won something... maybe a golfing match since he was in the clubbing area..? If there were clubs, there definitely were golf clubs. So maybe he won a golf club?

Looking himself over and finding no golf club on him, he decided that some more pondering on the matter was in order so he took a large sip of the bitter alcohol.

_Ah, nuts. _

As if forgetting that mud was a generally non-solid object, the young and full-of-promise college student kicked it, marring his (already marred by the surrounding mud) shoes.

Who was he kidding? His life was a sore disaster; that's why he was out in this unholy hour with this lovely bottle of cheep booze as a hearty companion. Booze that tasted more like ethanol then anything else because it was that cheap. Couldn't afford any better, see.

So what if he screwed up?

Ran off with a model-(now)-ex-girlfriend to be rich and famous, big deal.

Too stubborn to admit he was being a fucking moron so he could move back in with his family, whoops.

Genius that he was, life actually did require skills: skills he had no chance to acquire whilst living under the protective wing of proud papa up until around five months ago. Brains feed when you're of legal age to work, see. Heavy collage scholarship is one thing, but living on your own at 17 is a peculiar thing of an entirely different caliber, IQ of two hundred-something or not. Thank god for fake IDs that got him his crappy job in the first place, otherwise he'd be living in a box because hell would rain sugar before he faced his father and admitted his own stupidity.

Hell no, that would be a loss, and Yagami Light _always_ won.

Yagami Light took a generous swig oh his now half-empty liquor and swayed a little towards the sidewalk, but since sidewalks were for losers, curtly kept parading in the middle of the thankfully empty road like the winner that he was.

Light was sad, like an emo. So what did emo people do exactly?

They killed themselves of course, that's why there were so fucking many of them.

And that was where Light Yagami decided that he should just kill himself because his life wouldn't take him any further anyway, and the least cowardly way to do is without a gun that he didn't have would be to drown.

He'll probably regret killing himself in the morning, but... _gulp gulp_... well, to hell with it.

He went to look for a body of water, preferably one with a bridge.

_

* * *

Well, this should do_, Light though bitterly as he stared down at the rippling surface of the pond somewhat skeptically, _this is it then._

It was now nearing four in the morning of Sunday; almost two hours of searching for a plausible place to drown and another bottle of Ice Vodka later, he had found a place that somewhat followed both criteria of perfect suicide site. Kanto having no actual river within available range per se, Light bravely decided that something as symbolic as a suicide should be done close to home, or at least have some sort of statement behind it.

...Thus, standing over the rippling surface of Koi Pond on the miniature bridge on the library property, Light definitely thought there was something wrong with the picture, though he couldn't quite place a finger on it.

Water: check, bridge: check... pretty fish in the water: check. Hmm, everything seemed in order.

Stupid booze, discrediting his Koi Pond like that.

Shakespeare had a cool way of killing of his characters, so Light figured to die in a cool way, he needed to do an epiphany. Oh, how great it would have been if his life had adventures to offer. Light always wanted to be a detective; a figure righteousness and justice, famous, recognized, celebrated. Selfishly he never really wanted anything else, and his obsessive-compulsive desire to always win didn't exactly help in that area.

Though his mind wasn't properly functioning at the moment and there was absolutely no chance that he could die by throwing himself into a two-feed deep puddle inhabited by bright fish and plastic plants, emotionally, this suicide he was about to attempt was just as real to him as if he'd been soberly standing on a highway bridge with raging icy waters below him.

He could plot his path to fame and get what he wanted with fake smiles brilliant lies and good looks, but he was spoiled and required attention and when it came down to it, life gave him a hard lesson; one he no longer had desire to study. Ha! Double entendre.

He was seventeen years old for God's sake, what the hell did everyone expect from him.

Crossing his fingers and for some reason making a wish (a wish that he will not remember in the morning), Light took a deep breath and jumped.

He fell in the water, hurt his ankle, stumbled and fell to the side. Soaked and wet, he hit his head on a large boulder that framed the pond and fainted. His ear landed right against his digital wristwatch that will beep 4 AM and wake him up in ten minutes.

For the next few months, he will regret wearing the damned digital thing that night instead of his Quartz that did not have a beeper and would not have woken him; and for the rest of his life he would wonder what would have happened if he did wear the Quartz, and never spied on the horror of an oversized garbage bag being dragged across the lawn, later to produce a naked middle-aged male body that would be crucified on one of the Sakura trees and _gutted_.

What would have happened if he didn't get a very detailed look at the man in a white shirt and faded jeans with crazy jet-black hair as he was executing this?

Illuminated by one of numerous ground lights the library mini-park had, the man stood tall and calm over his victim. He looked much thinner and almost sickly compared to the almost-fat corpse now chained to the hypocritically lovely tree blossoming with pink flowers. His movements weren't slow but skilled and certain; no blood had ever stained his show-white shirt throughout the whole process.

This description of course will be forgotten in the morning, instead overpowered by a much more detailed one of the scene Light was now witnessing while successfully imitating a pile of rubbish in the pond.

Sick...

Light felt tears streaming down his numb face, but instincts told him to shut the fuck up and not even breathe as to not alert the man of his presence. And shut the fuck up he did -poor boy couldn't even feel the cold or pain or even shock anymore. He just numbly observed, his brain coming shallow on thoughts.

Half an hour later, the man simply packed up and was begging to leave, completely unaware of his little drunken spectator and not even sparing a second glace over at his masterpiece. But he was only begging to leave and never quite did, because at that moment they both became aware that it was precisely four-thirty in the morning: Light's watch beeped again.

They stared directly at each other for a split second, and then the man dropped his bag and bolted towards him, Light in turn jumped out as if the water was boiling and attempted to run. He made exactly two steps before frozen from spending thirty minutes in the same position in cold water, muscles gave out and his ankle exploded in pain and he fell.

He didn't even have a chance to try to get up as he was seized by the creepy psychotic killer with porcelain skin and deepest eyes Light has ever seen and pinned down to the grass. A hand gripped his throat with not enough force to quite strangle, but limited his oxygen supply with a grip that would accept thing but obsolete obedience.

"Name", a smooth, monotone voice ordered.

_Like hell_, Light thought and tried to kick out of the iron grip with all force he had left in him, which definitely wasn't much at the moment.

The man's flat expression did not change, but as the momento of adrenaline rush passed, it was obvious that he was repelled by the strong smell of alcohol that soaked Light's clothes and breath.

But Light didn't care.

_I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die_, he thought as he fought and the man just stared down at him debating something in his head, his grip not faltering one bit.

Eventually, few minutes later, Light stilled.

"I don't wanna die", he whispered, fresh tears running down his cheeks. He was begging, and praying to everything holy that begging was enough.

The man sighed at this.

"You do not have to die, however you must answer one question I ask you". Light registered slight pity in smooth voice, so he looked up in hope, signaling the man to continue.

"How many", the man started, his dark, deep eyes somehow pinning Light down even harder, "fingers am I holing up?".

The hand released Light's throat and was held up in front of his face. Light looked.

"Six", he stated, confident.

The man sighed again at this, somewhat in defeat.

"Alright, up you go. I have no business with you"

Light was jerked up by his wet shirt.

"You are very lucky that you are intoxicated enough to have high chances of losing this memory, and I hope my assessment correct." Light blinked, not quite understanding. He did hear the slightly preaching tone in the part of the man's monologue and assumed he was being scolded. "However, I encourage you to refrain from such extreme practices with alcohol in the future as this situation could have been entirely avoided should you not have been here at all. I also strongly _dis_courage you from coping with exam stress in such manner if my assumption is also correct."

Light took his last look at the psychopath-murderer-butcher-person before he drowned in the black eyes as he was swiftly hit at the back f his head and lost consciousness.


	2. Raison d'Etre

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, Emily Carr Art Institute people are assholes and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH2**

**Raison d'Etre **

Sheets... bloody sheets... no wait, sheets, clean, freshly-bleached sheets. Bed sheets. Crappy cheap nylon bed sheets, not the silk ones he had. Not his sheets. Not his bed.

Light sat up.

_Shit. _

Shouldn't have done that apparently, because his head exploded with so much pain that for a second there he actually thought the ceiling collapsed or something. He fell back into the starched sheets only to be attacked by sun, so he cowered away from it into a thick blanket.

So he was in a hotel, well _a motel_ by the looks of it, and by the smell of these sheets, no he didn't get laid with no strings attached according to the original plan of the night. What the _fuck_ was he thinking yesterday? Blissful oblivion during a heavily intoxicated daze, okay good plan so far, followed by happily waking up hell knows where with an absolutely killer hangover... What?

Light made a mental note to never drink again until the next time he got drunk.

Well now that being established, how the hell did he get here in the first place?

Somebody dragged him... that guy with black hair... what... _my God!_

Light sat up again with the identical result of splitting headache and extreme photophobia but this time did not dare to lie back down. Instead he jumped out, looking himself over, feeling at his wrists. His ankle hurt, and he knew exactly why it did, for God's sake he tried to kill himself!

His wrists were safe which meant he hadn't attempted re-suicide after the first attempt via drowning failed. This was good. Again, what the fuck was he thinking yesterday?

At a bloody Koi Pond near the library, too! Wasn't that thing like... two feet deep?

Light felt absolutely miserable. He glanced at the soaking bed and his own damp clothes and realized that no, this part wasn't a part of his dream: he was really stupid enough to try to kill himself in a puddle.

In Light's general opinion, suicide itself was a pathetic last resort for weak fools and in the manner he apparently preceded with it made it just that much more shameful.

Light swayed a little and sat back down on the bed having already classified the room vacant besides him.

Not that anybody would really be there; no psychopath in his motel room, no sir!

Oh yes, he hadn't forgotten _that_ part of his dream, but as disturbed as he was by it, he preferred thinking of his own misery rather then recalling the vivid fragments of his cruel imagination. It was much easier that way; and it was a dream no matter how real it seemed than and how freshly embedded in his memory it was now. A dream, no more. Had to be: and Light himself was the living proof that it was just a nightmare; had there really be a murdering freak on the loose in his local neighborhood library park, Light would most certainly _not_ be living.

A loud bang on the door made the boy's heart nearly jump out of his ribcage.

Oh for fuck's sake.

_Get a hold of yourself Raito, there is no psychopath with an axe behind the door either. _

But the knocking only grew that much more obnoxious so Light straightened his half-dump shirt and hair as much as possible and went to get it.

"Yes?"

His line of sight was spoiled by an obese, bolding man in his mid-forties, the kind you expect to heavily reek of cheap beer, cigarettes and semen whilst they masturbate over porn PayPerView everyday. His oily mousy hair was flipped to one side in a comb-over and gave an overall pathetic yet tolerable impression; though he obviously tried shaving with scissors that day. Despite this, he wore a suit and a tie. _Hnn_, thought Light. Your typical love-motel manager.

"Ah there y'are kid, din't think y'd walk but 'guess seasoned ones get used t'it after 'while... Anyway, see kid, we got a problem y'see. Y'see..."

It was obvious the man was trying to sound professional under both clear discomfort for both homosexuality he somehow linked to Light and the angry glare delivered by the later; he continued.

"Y'see, yer creepy bumper buddy ain't here no more and t'check he gave ma' clerk, well, bounced. Sorry kid, y'gonna hafta take care of t'bill yerself. Shame too, ya know how they _are_, get ya drunk, bang ya and then run, those cheep fuckers. Pick'em better next time kiddo..."

They day barely started and it was all going to hell.

Focusing on being pissed at being left with the bill rather than horrifying implication of the 'bumper buddy' who'd taken him to a motel (as soon as he paid with some wet bills, his wallet thankfully in its proper place, Light checked himself over and concluded that none of the implied sodomy upon his body had occurred, thank god), Light left.

His head still hurt like hell, but he at least dried the best he could and found some wet Aspirin. He knew he still considerably reeked of booze, his hair was imperfect and his shirt was crumpled but it would do until he got 'home'.

But perhaps worse than public humiliation of being imperfect, Light could simply not get over that unsettling feeling in his gut that something, _something bad_ had happened. Something Light knew, something that happened at the Koi Pond, something really had happened despite its improbability. Light _had a dream _of what he thought was a gruesome butchery taking place by the Koi Pond.

For defense of the fact, he was wet, meaning he really was at the pond. He was taken to a motel by a creepy man, and the psycho he thought he saw would most likely be creepy because, well he was a psycho. Light couldn't remember his face at all... but he knew for a fact – in his dream – the man was a man. So it was plausible he was taken to a motel by the killer himself... and that was it for defense.

For Crown however, there was much more to be said. If he saw a murder, the murderer would defiantly not dump him in a nearby motel. He'd kill him. Light was alive. Was there a murder to occur at all, one might think a perfect site for crucification would be somewhere either hidden or much more public. Library yard fit neither. Light was drunk, and that pretty much spoke for itself. Light was also troubled – something he grudgingly admitted to, and his disturbed state of mind would more likely throw something like this at him then not. Imagination Light had plenty of. In addition, had the 'psycho' really been crazy enough to dump him at a motel, he'd definitely, definitely_ not_ show his face to the motel clerk. Clerk was given a check, which means she got a good look at his face.

Thus, through the hard facts Light was absolutely sure nothing at all happened at the Koi Pond other then his own idiotic suicide attempt. In other words, _something nobody will ever know. _

And this was why Light went straight home.

And by 'straight home', he of course meant he rather felt like taking a twelve-block roundabout that conveniently passed the Library. Because Light absolutely always enjoyed walking around in blinding sun and cold weather without a jacket, carrying an ego-sized migraine with less then perfect hair, horrible smell and crumpled shirt.

He also always did this when he had a very important mid-term paper he haven't even started due in two days.

And he was absolutely not checking just to cease that unsettling feeling in his gut. He would find nothing there, he knew. Hell, he wasn't even expecting to find his missing library card and cellphone.

Not that he was checking.

**8888888888888888888888888888888888888**

"And that's why I need to speak to my father now, Suzuki-san. I know this technically isn't allowed but as you know, we are having very rocky times right now. Im not sure if talking to him would help our situation at all, you know how stubborn dad is, but I really don't get to see him at all which leaves him available only when he is at work" despite his pounding heart and intense disturbance that was racing though his head, Light knew how to charm any girl and a thirty-something female officer stood no chance against him.

All it took was a pity card and a few compliments about her (very average) hair that she apparently dyed but Light didn't see any difference since the last time he had seen her at all but played the 'oh how lovely it looks' card anyway.

Surprisingly it had taken a lot more then he expected and he was sure it was not because of how scared out of his wits he was, though it contributed.

After a few more minutes, Officer Suzuki, a street cop, finally let Light go though the yellow Crime Scene tape surrounding the oh to dreaded Kanto Public Library.

A crime scene tape surrounding _the entire _library property including the park with the Koi Pond.

Yes, fucking _yellow crime tape _around the library. A crime scene, and a very important one at that because Officer Suzuki was unaware of just what was behind it, yet given strict instructions not to let anyone through.

An old acquaintance Raito-kun, a polite, modest model student going though rough times with his father (who was currently at the scene behind the yellow tape) and desperately wanting to repent could be given excusive rights of exception.

"Just don't tell anyone" She winked. "If someone asks, say it was Matsuda. He'll agree and think he let you though and than forgot."

Nodding politely at every officer that pleasantly greeted him without a second thought, Light made his way towards the Sakura tree alley and the pond; he could almost see it behind the library building now. That was where most of the commotion was as well.

A wave of sickening feeling in his lungs and his stomach threatening to turn inside out any time only grew, and oh did it grow faster then Light could fight it.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck. _

_No fucking way..._

"Raito-kun!"

_Matsuda, not now... _The man had a nasty habit of popping up when for a culprit, it was the worst timing ever. This of course making it the best possible timing for police: simply put, Matsuda had incredible sixth sense and instincts and in the long run, this is what kept him with a job so far and won't leave him without one in the far future. This of course assuming the overgrown goofball took the hint the first_ four_ times and won't cause any major disasters ever again.

Light doubted this but still couldn't see Matsuda fired, ever; out of the entire Japanese Taskforce his father was currently heading, Matsuda was one with most enthusiasm; he sucked but worked himself so hard he was even with the rest of the taskforce still. Some of his idiotic ideas were actually the best possible solutions. Light admired creativity.

Matsuda also was the best shot in the whole department and held the record in firearms test. Light absolutely hated guns: they made him feel uneasy as perhaps spiders, vermin and snakes made feel some women. Not women then held up their skirts and jumped on high chairs should they spot a mouse; rather the women that fainted at the sight of a poisonous snake.

Guns also were something Light was absolutely horrible at: not only had he failed every shooting course he tried, he failed it so pathetically his father actually gave him a little applause after he first managed to hit anything other then the wall behind the target.

And the target was human-height, pasted on a large sheet of paper. It was also only ten feet away from him. Twenty shots later, Light finally hit the paper, not even the actual target. His father clapped.

After the incident, Light concluded that shooting was definitely not his thing, far from it even despite his undeniable genius at literally everything else, and anybody who could shoot decently received both his jealousy and uttermost respect.

Thus the secret respect he harbored for Matsuda was jacked up a few notches.

At the moment however, Light wished the ground would split and swallow Matsuda whole. He pretended he didn't hear the man and continued to speed-walk towards his target area. He could almost see it now...

"Raito-kun!" The man actually ran behind him now! Light increased his pace, but Matsuda circled around him and stopped right ahead in plain view so that Light could not miss his presence the third time he called. A genuine smile stretched the man's otherwise unsettled face.

"Raito-kun! Hello, what are you doing here?"

_To tell or not to tell?_ To avoid making a fool of himself he actually had to see that tree with the _body_, but at the rate the day was unfolding, so far the chances that there _wasn't _one were extremely slim. Too many coincidences. Light felt like throwing up but held himself together.

"Matsuda-san, hello. Where is my father? I'd like to speak with him, it's urgent."

"Well, you can tell me and I'll make sure to give him a message; see he's very busy with er... _the crime_..." but catching Light's expressive look, he seemed to have come to a realization.

"Is about...? Oh. Oh. ...oh. Umm, see the thing is, I know it's important, the stuff between your father and you, but this is a very... er... high profile case, I mean crime. I'm not supposed to talk about it. Anyway, your father is over there" Matsuda pointed to the ominous Sakura tree alley with the pond "... and you can't go there. I don't think you'd want to either. And your father is real busy and I don't think I should go get him or at least..."

The man trailed off.

Light's glare made Matsuda shut up take a few steps back.

Light looked frustrated.

"Fine. I have something to tell you then, about your... case. I'd prefer to speak to my father about it though if that could be avoided, I would rather to not speak to him at all."

"The case? What about the case..."

"Raito."

And there he was as if right on the queue: his father, coming around the building with Aizawa right behind him. Not surprising, seeing as Matsuda was practically yelling his name at the top of his lungs earlier.

What he saw however, made him feel edgy in a completely different way. Unshaved for days face and deep wrinkles on his forehead, bags under eyes and same unsettled expression he saw on Matsuda's face minutes before aged his father ten years. Deep inside Light knew he was partly to blame for this but pushed idea aside: there were much important matters to be taken care of.

"Father."

The father and son stared at each other for a full minute. A lot was to be said, but neither spoke, both bearing grudges against each other, both too stubborn. Like father like son after all. Though Light knew Soichiro had no idea what this was about, the older man sure as hell knew Light wasn't about to apologize.

"You look like hell." His father stated.

"So do you."

"I was working for two nights straight, Raito. Not out drinking by the looks of you. Though I'm sure you know what both are like by now."

_Thanks dad._

"I hope you're not thinking I am here to make peace with you, _father_."

"Then what the hell are you here for?"

"Raito-kun is here because he has something to say about the case." Matsuda blurted out helpfully.

"Oh?" His father's eyes narrowed in rising anger. "And what I beg you can you possibly know about the case? Are you trying to do us all a big favor and offer your _help_? Im sorry Raito but if you want respect and reputation perhaps you should first earn it, starting by not coming here looking like _that_!"

His father was boiling.

So was Light. The bastard... how dare he...

By this time, Matsuda cautiously retreated to where Aizawa stood safe ten feet away.

"Look" Light suppressed yelling and instead his voice came out as low, even though somewhat shaky tone. "Is there, or is there not, a dead body on the second Sakura tree behind the pond?"

It then became deathly silent; the only noise for miles around them seemed to be Matsuda choking on something, probably air.

"Leak..." his father roared "who told you?"

"Nobody. I've seen it"

"Seen it? You're not close enough to seen it! Who the hell told you?"

"I've seen it happen." Light's knees went a little weak as he admitted it to himself for the first time. He'd actually seen it happen.

"What! Nonsense! Who told you boy, and stop lying this instant!"

"I'm telling you –"

"Yagami-san!"

It was Mogi this time. Running towards them. Running, and that was saying something; Mogi was a very calm, impulse-free man.

He looked very uneasy down to the core definition of the word and when he spotted Light he stopped right in his tracks, the unease in his bulky features increasing still.

"What is it, Mogi?" His father's attention shifted as well; clearly Mogi running was quite a reason.

Mogi never did break eye-contact with Light.

"The sidewalks and bridge get swept and cleaned every Friday night. The caretaker says he'd done it. This..." Mogi hesitantly handed an evidence bag to Soichiro, "... must have gotten there sometime after the midnight of today."

Unwillingly, Light stepped closer, Matsuda and Aizawa right behind him.

And then from the plastic evidence bag, Light saw himself, brightly smiling from a library card, right next to his cellphone, the tiny machine dead and the front screen frozen at when it must have hit the water: Three forty- four AM.

Nobody said a word.

**

* * *

  
**

The Japanese Taskforce headquarters were just as Light remembered it, but only as far as the actual structure of the space went. Otherwise it was in total chaos, one far beyond regular disorderly detective life. Desks, usually invisible under the piles of paperwork each member sponsored on regular basis were double or even triple of what it used to be, creating moderately-sized mountains of offensive documents. Some were moved together, totally distorting proper geometry of the large studio-like room. Floor wasn't much better off, usually maintained by the genitor, and now gave an impression that no one cleaned for months though in reality Light realized it must have been less then a week. Rubbish and little balls of discarded paper, crumpled in frustration and tossed as far as a little ball of paper would fly, countless paper cups with brownish coffee residue slowly mellowing on their sides and stacks of important documents that couldn't fit on the decks. The usual tasteless artwork purpose of which was never really determined was gone and instead replaced with papers, maps, carts long fax scrolls and alike, all pinned down or badly taped up – some were written on with markers and when the space on the page ran out, writing freely trailed off the paper onto the actual wall with no restraint.

And somehow in the middle of the mess were people, swiftly maneuvering between the misplaced furniture and skillfully avoiding tripping on any rubbish on the floor, all carrying either another stack of documents to pile on top of those already on the ground or a laptop to wire to the over-wired mass of technology in the far corner of the room; apparently their makeshift power computer.

The room buzzing; everything seemed to either beep, ring, yell or make a defeated mechanical noise announcing that it died of overload.

Even Light, exhausted from sitting in a police car for seven hours until the select members of the taskforce were done with the crime scene and taken him in for questioning, could fail to gawk at the pandemonium. Aizawa, Mogi, Matsuda and his father seemed completely unaffected as if this was normal – this bedlam was perfectly fine and when they walked in thought the steel double-doors they expected nothing less.

Clearly all the rapid work that was happening in the middle of the mayhem was focused on one thing and not ten cases as it usually was. One case. All nineteen members were trying to solve one case, as quickly as possible and all the documents, trash and printouts were all about the same thing.

What in the world could possibly gather that much files?

This of course meant that all four detectives that were escorting Light were directly a part of it also. So was the dead man on the Sakura blossom by the Koi pond. Whatever it was, it required the taskforce's four best members (including their chief) on out in the field and on a crime scene. Under any other circumstances this was unheard of.

Whatever the hell it was, Light had a feeling he would find out, either it came from blabbering Matsuda of evening news: something like that couldn't be kept under a rug for more then few days, especially with an area of seven hundred-foot radius of yellow tape and nearly a hundred police officers at the scene right in the middle of the city. Oh, and it had to do with a very expressive slaughter.

A murder case? On this scale?

This was what aged his father so much; this was what made him so restless and old. Light knew it wasn't entirely true – he was to blame for his father's stress just as much as this the chaos. The strain of their relationship weighted down on Soichiro and Light felt bad.

...He was handed to an officer who took him into a questioning room with a large one-way screen mirror. Light was sure everyone was too busy to watch him from the other side anyway and didn't let it bother him.

It all went by like a daze anyway. He couldn't react to much, the weight of wha the saw finally settling in.

The woman that came in two minutes later, record time for a questioning officer had a pleasant and reassuring face.

_A shrink,_ Light judged.

Nevertheless, she was nice.

He told her everything he could remember.

How he was drunk and somehow fell in the pond by accident.

How he woke up.

How he saw the man getting chained to a tree and butchered.

How he fainted.

How he woke up at the motel.

Because of course there were things nobody needed to know and had no relevance at all; his suicide attempt for one. He knew the shame would haunt him forever and he did not need anybody who could possibly find out haunting him along with it.

Overall after he assessed his story, he really wasn't much help at all; this made him feel like shit – went though that all and for nothing.

Got drunk, uselessly covered in a pond and hid while something of high importance was happening.

Officer Shrink didn't comment however, all she offered were comforting looks and gentle nudges to go on.

He was unable to answer whether the man took the bag with him, if there were any cars parked nearby, nor could he remember which direction the man left.

He could not give a decent description of a man at all. He simply did not remember.

Jeans. Black hair, dark eyes.

Heh.

He was in Japan for fuck's sake, everybody was fucking Asian, and _everybody_ had 'black hair, dark eyes'.

He didn't come even close when it came to trying to work with a sketch artist.

It was nearly midnight when he was cleared (that much was a given anyway) and allowed to leave (on his father's accord).

"You're gonna know tomorrow night on the evening news anyway, we were pressured by media to finally release the situation... well, mostly by Sakura TV but yeah" said Matsuda who was escorting Light down the corridor, into the headquarters then out and into his car to drive him 'home'.

_Figures._

"Well Matsuda-san, there won't be any harm in telling me just what I've gotten myself into. Better from you then news, huh."

Matsuda cringed as if speaking of the matter alone would bring disaster.

Well, Matsuda himself was a walking disaster so you can't exactly make it any worse.

"Well... you know L?"

L? Of course he knew L, Everybody knew L. L, the single most dangerous assassin without a cause. L had killed people, a lot of people and then made a show of it... L liked to kill rich people at no profit to himself. Most of the fat, selfish bastards he killed were either involved into a high-scale bribery scheme or were corrupt politicians and if that seemed somewhat noble, L didn't limit himself to just those, which in itself was horrifying.

He was wanted in over fifty countries with death penalty at stake wherever execution was practiced. Some believed L was an organization but evidence all pointed into a single-manned operation. L was invisible, elusive and there weren't a single record that could identify him for fingerprints or overall appearance. Simply put, there were fatalities but no killer. All that would link L to his victims would be a white, blank business card left at each scene with nothing but a large gothic-font letter 'L' on one side. It would be printed with silver ink on acid paper, exact compounds only known to police and used exactly in each card, thus it was quite simple to distinguish countless copy-cat attempts.

L was a genius. The letter itself was frowned upon, and in case of Japan, the name brought 'bad luck' because everyone was either too fucking superstitious, paranoid, or both.

Fortunately, nobody in Japan could pronounce the letter L anyway.

"Yeah, what about L?"

Light had a very bad feeling about this, the kind of feeling that screamed 'don't go into that dark alley' but curiosity to follow the adorable kitten pushed you forward.

"Well..." Matsuda was nervous. "Well... um, Light don't tell anyone until tomorrow night, okay? L is... believed to be in Japan."

...and as soon as you stepped into the dark alley, both you and your kitten get thrown into an unmarked black van. Now what was that feeling that told you 'don't fucking go into the alley'?

Light felt even sicker and his entire form swayed slightly.

"Hey, you okay Raito?"

Matsuda panicked. And when he panicked, he said a lot more then was necessary. A lot.

" ...don't worry about it! Okay, this is the second murder by him in Japan so we know it's him for sure now , but what you probably don't know that L lets witnesses go if they haven't really seen anything! You'll be fine, he never perused the people he let go! Aw dang I shouldn't've said any of that, please don't tell anyone! But it's all okay! Raito-kun, are you okay? Raito-kun?"

Matsuda kept of rambling for another few minutes while Light processed the information.

"So that's why you guys are letting me go?"

"W-well..."

"Matsuda."

"...L... well, he goes kill witnesses he let go... only if they are placed in witness protection or under surveillance... because that makes it look like they've actually seen more stuff then they should have... That's why it's really, really important to put you back home. Trust me it's the safest thing we can do for you. Please please _please_ dont tell anyone, your father will maim me..."

"So I'm safe because I hid in a pond like a coward, and now when it matters, I can do nothing to help."

"Hey! Don't be too hard on yourself, I wasn't able to help out much either, I feel so bad so you're not alone...!"

Light said nothing.

"C-come on cheer up..! Oh sorry that's probably the worst thing I can say... eh. So, um... this is awkward... how do you like our new office arrangement?" Matsuda sucked at making comfort jokes.

"It's lovely, Matsuda-san."

"Yeah, I know we really messed it up, haven't we? But you know with the situation and all... all the big shots that are aware L's in town are freaking out, not that I blame them... we're in a bit of trouble with the office too."

"How's so?" Light asked absently.

"Well this whole nice investigation headquarters are not government-sponsored, but you probably know that already. It's privately-funded, and let me tell you boy is it expansive!" the detective was trying too hard to be cheerful for Light's sake, not that the boy noticed.

"Is it now?"

"Yeah, it's a real candy, too! But here's why we're screwed – and don't tell anybody – it's privately sponsored by Ryuzaki Rue, you know that crazy paranoid millionaire that no one gets to see because he thinks he'll get assassinated just by people looking at him? I bet he's real creepy too... but anyway. He likes to be in town when he has to upgrade something for us, he's got a few mansions in Kanto too I think... but yeah. We're upgrading the computers in the whole building next month, and we're getting that 3-D building map machine thing... and a helicopter. So Ryuzaki Rue, he's coming... well, his private jet landed an hour ago. If he finds out about L, we're so screwed... he accused us of being incompetent already and – not that I think we can catch L, but we are the best investigation team in the whole Japan..."

Though Matsuda was babbling, Light did not know this, so he listened patiently sorting out useful information from the rest of the garbage Matsuda spoke.

"...so he kinda expects something. He's real paranoid too, I think I said that already, so he'll be creeped out by L; there's a chance he can... cut funding."

A dramatic pause.

-

Out of the corridor they went back into the main investigation room, the one that earlier was swarming with papers and buzzing with various mechanized noises. Now however, it was silent, misleadingly so.

Everyone was crowded around a far desk in the corner, one where all phones were dumped. In the middle of the circle was Light's father, his knuckles white from his tight grip on the receiver. His brows were furrowed and he spoke in a calm, hushed tone as if trying to pacify the person at the other end of the line. The wrinkles on the old man's forehead told Light that the conversation was going unsuccessfully though he couldn't hear a word of it.

Light turned to look at Matsuda but the man seemed to be equally confused.

Mogi spotted them right away and made his way towards them, breaking the perfect circle around Soichiro.

"No hard feelings Raito, alright?" The bulky man meant it.

Light nodded and chose to stay out of the conversation.

"What's going on?" said Matsuda.

"Rue's on the line."

"So fast? Dang that guy got some serious ninja skills..."

"He... he knows he have a whiteness. Somebody leaked it."

"Aw, a leak just great... wait, what does he want?"

"Raito, you remember nothing, correct?"

Light nodded again.

"Alright. Do you know who we are talking about?"

The boy shook his head no, but before he could catch himself it came out in such manner that told the world he was lying.

Mogi rolled his eyes.

"So Raito knows. _Matsuda_."

"Dont tell the chief, okay?" Matsuda whined guiltily.

Mogi gave an inward sigh, giving up on the pathetic excuse of a police officer.

"Well, it's not too bad that you know, Raito. He wants to speak to you."

"Ryuzaki Rue wants to speak to me?"

"Rue's a bastard and he thinks he's capable of anything. Anything that _we _aren't capable of. He's very angry... Raito, don't let it bother you, but he's angry we couldn't get a description of L – as Matsuda probably rattled out as well – out of you, and he's absolutely convinced he can do it himself. Over the phone, apparently."

Matsuda looked ready to kill himself and Light was once again reminded of his own incompetence. A known trait of Mogi – kill two birds with one stone. Light could almost always stand against it but right now his senses and mind weren't working in his favor.

Light sighed, because it was all he could do.

"I'll talk to him then."

After much deliberation, Light was hesitantly handed the phone and put on speaker.

"Hello, my name is Yagami Raito."

The voice of Ryuzaki Rue was low, deprived of any emotion and so frighteningly _even_ and solid Light had to take his time to process what was being said because he never quite heard a voice that could tell him so little of the speaker. But of what was being _demanded_ of him... and oh what demands those were...

The voice sounded distantly familiar, and the fact that Light couldn't place where he'd heard that voice made state of mind collapse even further.

--

No member of the taskforce had ever seen Light so angry after the conversation. It was on speaker, and he was nothing short of being verbally butchered. After slamming the receiver, he slammed his knuckles into the office desk and screamed. Nobody ever held this against him: the boy went though a lot. Nobody ever blamed him for knocking a mountain of papers over, kicking garbage out of his way and ordering Matsuda to just take him home already.

His father looked like he wanted nothing more then just to hug his son, though the old man did or said nothing of the sort.

After that day, Light always wondered had Ryuzaki ever realized just what he had done to Light over that short phone call. A feeling of worthlessness – something Light, someone who never failed at anything and was praised for _breathing_ more perfectly then the next guy never felt in his life.

But what this son of a bitch Ryuzaki did was nothing short of stabbing a soaring, hemorrhaging wound then twisting the knife repeatedly, digging in deeper. Light knew he was at fault: he also knew he harbored enough self-pity and self-love that would help him cope, forgive himself for witnessing something horrific and being unable to provide any useful information on the matter.

To Light, death by a hand of a psychopath on a Sakura tree near a Koi pond was much preferred then being stripped of his pride and self-justification.

He, under any normal circumstances _excluding _Ryuzaki, would have given himself lenience even though nearly half of the taskforce unintentionally rubbed the shame in. He honestly could deal with that.

But this Ryuzaki... god, has he ever hated anyone with such passion. Perhaps unintentionally so, perhaps even the man thought he was addressing a simple-minded college kid to whom it won't make any difference, but Ryuzaki Rue absolutely destroyed any composure and resolve Light had left. A normal college kid would have none left in the first place.

And the bastard had managed to do so over the phone. To a degree, Light was relieved that he would never have to see Ryuzaki Rue in person.

That man was capable of taking any_thing _and any_body_ apart into little, hollow pieces.

With these thoughts and pale, blank expression Light made his way out of Matsuda's car and into his apartment building. He didn't remember climbing the stairs or unlocking the door or passing his tiny livingroom.

He looked around absently as if he hadn't been here for years. No cobwebs or dust, no evidence of this sort was present. His computer sat on top of his small desk, right next to his bed with silk sheets, the boxers and the shirt he slept in folded neatly on top of the plush pillows, his Quartz watch sitting on top of the bedside table, his dresser and ten pairs of perfect shoes, all patiently waiting for their owner to return for over thirty hours now, ever since he left for that bar at seven at night two days ago.

Light swayed. The nausea that stalked him was finally set to roam free and he barely made it to the bathroom before grabbing the edges of the toilet and heaving violently. He ate nothing but police-intended donuts and coffee in the past 24 hours, so his vomit felt like acid, blazing up his throat, into his mouth and out. It physically hurt more then it should have.

Hollow just as empty, Light sank on his knees next to the toilet for a minute, then got up, flushed the mess, brushed his teeth and without as much as undressing or at least a shower, collapsed into _his _sheets on _his _bed, and cried.


	3. Pointing Fingers

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I go though four eyeliners and a jar of coffee in one month and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH3 **

**Finger-Pointing**

Something as dreary as brushing teeth in the morning was nothing to pay particular mind to, Light knew this. And yet for the entire course of the previous day he engaged in the activity whooping twenty-six times.

His gums of course bled; his mouth tasted of metal and Extra-Strong Minty Fresh toothpaste and he couldn't really mask the taste with food because any food he tried eating didn't stay down for long: vomiting was followed by more teeth-brushing activity, and thus the taste.

In any case, Light found that the obnoxiously-fresh taste of toothpaste kept him alert and distracted, so he figured why not. Every half an hour he would brush his teeth. In a way, for someone depressed Light's 'brushing teeth' would equal to cutting, but this was Light, and Light brushed his teeth.

So it was no wonder that the day after Sunday at seven in the morning, Light was vigorously brushing his teeth for the twenty-seventh time. He really didn't need to wake up that early: his first lecture and midterm of ironically, Psychology didn't start until afternoon.

He should have really at least tried getting more sleep, Light's reflection in the bathroom mirror told him this, but in truth he knew there was no way he could sleep even if he confined himself to bed for twenty-four hours. Wouldn't fly for three simple reasons: he couldn't fall asleep, too paranoid though Mogi told him they'd put two street cops around the building for surveillance just to make sure, if he did fall asleep he would be woken less then an hour later by very nightmarish eyes as the previous day proved, and three, well he was _regularly _phoned by his father's underlings to make sure he was _fine_.

Every five fucking minutes.

That's what _really_ got Light's wheels turning.

It seemed the universe was taking a new shape entirely, one where everything was flipping out on Light.

Hey look, his toothpaste just ran out.

Yesterday he was sulking, jumping at any random noise and walking around his own house with a kitchen knife tucked in his belt.

Just in case.

Because, well, regular calls form either Matsuda or Mogi the bold and obvious purpose of which was to check if he was still alive did much to ease his paranoia, really.

But nohoho, not Aizawa, never Aizawa. Aizawa took a firm stand behind his father when it came to Light and Soichiro messy relationship which wasn't that surprising considering the man had a family. Aizawa had yet to speak to Light.

_Stupid toothpaste, not coming out..._

Light rolled the empty tube, tried wringing it and even went as far as trying to force the gel out with his teeth, but with no avail. Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, Light tossed the offensive thing against the bathroom wall.

It bounced and hit the mirror, splattering its very last precious contents onto Light's reflection.

Wow.

Light shot the damned thing one last glare before retreating without as much as bothering to pick it up.

It was too early to do anything and normally at this time, Light would be scooping up his oatmeal and reading last night's paper... He tried that, but on his third spoon-full he had to dart to the bathroom and greet the toilet.

Fucking hell, if Light didn't know better, he swore to god his logical move would've been to run down to the local drugstore and buy some pregnancy tests. Come on, he knew he was stronger then that! Why was his body reacting so violently? Not that throwing up due to severe stress was all that uncommon; on the contrary it was typical... for teenage female population.

Light angrily slammed his fists against the cold tiles.

Oh, this was pathetic and hopeless.

Screw Mogi and his suggestion to go through counseling. Screw him! Light knew he was fine; he could deal with this himself.

...and he would have been just fine right now had Ryuzaki Rue never existed. That man, that _asshole_ absolutely wiped Light dry of self-centered excuses and made him feel guilty, worthless, weak. Yagami Light did that to people, not the other way around! Arg, how much did he want to find that man and just punch him in the face...

Somehow, Ryuzaki Rue was directly responsible for everything, Light just knew it.

So when Matsuda called to 'see how Light was doing', Light didn't spare the poor detective's ears from yet another rant of how Ryuzaki Rue should die in a fire.

"...and that's why the bastard should die in a fire. Has he even called back yet?"

"No Light, he didn't call back. He didn't doom the whole department _yet_ though, so that's kinda good news, we're still getting our helicopter." Matsuda's squeaky exited voice reminded Light of his sister who was currently fourteen and obsessed with _Twilight _– and for a police officer, that was positively _bad._

"Oh yeah? Well he should go and see what he's paying for, maybe he'd die of a heart attack when he sees what you've turned the office into."

"Haha, you don't know the half of it. It got even crazier, Ukita, you know the hot one? She yelled at Yagami-san yesterday, all threatening to quit and stuff. He let her move to that far desk by the phones, you know the one that's least cluttered... We're not getting even close though, all the old stuff... We had a two hundred and fourteen-page fax yesterday, can you believe that? A two hundred and fourteen-page_ fax_..."

-

Light left for To-oh four hours later, somewhat content that he managed to finish his oatmeal after ranting about Ryuzaki Rue and listening to Matsuda's streaming rubbish in turn; Matsuda-talk was always so uplifting that it managed to make Light feel somewhat better, so he could eat.

But that lasted only until he left the safety of his shitty apartment and joined _people_ on their regular morning commute.

In the crowd, Light spotted a tall crazy-looking man with black hair, who was wearing jeans. He nearly jumped and screamed. The man didn't seem to notice him and merrily kept walking the direction that just happened to be towards Light.

Light took a few anxious steps back and bumped into someone.

"Watch where you going!" The guy behind him yelled, and much to Light's horror, this man also had gelled-up black hair and was wearing jeans.

"Hey, you okay kid?" But Light just kept staring and backing away... before turning around and darting towards the middle of the living mass, only to stand right next to another man about his height who was also wearing jeans and had black shoulder-length hair.

Light stopped altogether, disrupting the overall flow of the crowd and provoking some angry comments. Several of which came from several _other_ men that were wearing jeans and had black hair.

"Gah!" And Light bolted right out of the hellish circle of psychotic murderers in the general direction of the To-oh and did not once stop until he reached the building. Panting and horrified, he slumped on one of the many benches and took his head in his heads.

...not that much of an uncommon sight because after all, this was a very prestigious university on the day of a very important mid-term Psychology exam.

In other words, students were bumping into each other because they were walk-reading their textbooks. Some were franticly pacing around the entrance of the exam hall, waiting to be let in. Some, as Light appeared to be doing, just gave up, sat on a bench and held their heads in their palms, calculating their possible grade drop should they (eminently) fail.

Although Light was rather thinking of crazy killers stalking him, nobody could read his mind so they assumed that Yagami Light was finally cracking under the pressure along with the rest of the world.

Later on came the undeniable proof that the world was _really_ cracking.

Light stared at his test paper. Particularly at the answer he just wrote. It was _wrong._ Though he managed to catch his own mistake, it was already written down, and it was _dead wrong._ And there it was, in Light's own writing, a _wrong_ answer.

Light stared at it for another minute, unable to comprehend. Still unsure of what the hell just happened, Light erased the wrong answer and proceeded to stare blankly at the eraser shavings. Eraser shavings on his test paper, evidence that he _erased_. Yagami Light never erased anything either, especially not on a test because everything he did was _perfect _and _right_ and it never gave him a reason to _erase_.

Yet here were tiny dirty rubber bits, proof that he was wrong.

When Light finally snapped out of it and proceeded to correct the answer, he spotted another one on the page. And then another one. And another.

Before he could catch himself, he was correcting the entire exam and though there was more than one correct answer for each question, it seemed to Light he picked all the wrong ones. At the end, he ended up barely finishing the test on time and walked out with the crowd (of generally black-haired male students in jeans) as the test ended and not an hour before, as he usually would have finished way early.

Another wondrous thing was that he was unsure how he did, which itself wasn't at all different from incorrect answers and eraser shavings.

...Damn you Ryuzaki Rue!

This was directly the bastard's fault: it was he who initially made Light doubt himself and think himself less then he really was. Damn you, Ryuzaki Rue.

Light pretended that a random unfortunate rock on the sidewalk was actually Ryuzaki Rue's _face _just for the sake of kicking it. He aimed, drew back his foot and closed almost half the distance between his shoed toes and the rock when his phone vibrated violently, causing Light to miss the rock and instead drive his foot painfully into the very_ solid_ pavement.

Light performed a very impressive maneuver of pulling the phone out of his pocket and plopping on the nearby bench all while gracefully hopping on his uninjured foot.

"Yes, hello Misa".

"Ra-i-to! You meanie, you! Raito had to call Misa-Misa on Saturday, but he didn't! You know what the councilor said don't you! Regular calls and civil c-conv-converze... " Misa took a second the re-group her mind, "_conversations!_ And Raito totally didn't call when he was supposed to! But Misa knows Raito doesn't like it when Misa calls him not on the scheduled time, so Misa didn't! But Misa's time is today so Misa called!"

"…" Light really didn't have the energy for this right now; especially when 'this' meant dealing with a recognized queen of speed-talking.

"Hi!"

"Yes. Hello Misa. Sorry I didn't call. I was busy."

"Busy? Busy, yay! Good for you! Raito was on a daaate? With a new giiirlfied? Is she preeety?"

"No Misa, I wasn't on a date. I was studying," Light lied.

"Hmm, studying again? Well that's no fun" Misa puffed her cheeks over the phone, "No wonder Raito sounds so... like, dead. But that's okay! Misa's gonna cheer you up! Did you see the Pink!GOstar Magazine this morning, did you? It's all true! Misa went on a date with Ryuga Hideki! _'Superstar Model Misa-Misa went on a date with movie star Ryuga Hideki!'_ It was sooo amazing! Ryuga-san took Misa to..."

"Misa."

"Raito doesn't want Misa to tell him about her amazing date?"

"Misa, I'm sorry I'm really tired right-"

"But Raito can listen, can't he? Or maybe he doesn't want to?"

"Misa, it's not that I don't care, _I really do, _but I-"

"Aha! Misa knows! Raito won't listen because. Raito. Is. Jealous!"

This wasn't getting him far.

"See! Acceptance is the first step now that we established that you're totally jealous, let me tell you about my amazing date with Ryuga Hide-"

Light hung up.

**

* * *

**

"So what exactly is it that changed so drastically in past two hours that I have to be _delivered_ to the headquarters?"

Light, who was currently seated at the back of a street police car, did not appreciate Aizawa's presence one bit, and Aizawa in turn was more agreeable only by so much.

Five minutes ago, Light's brilliant plan to get home and blissfully sulk for the rest of the day (and preferably stop by a kitchen utensil store to purchase a nice big butcher knife, just in case) were interrupted by Aizawa in a car, who was to take Light back to the investigation quarters.

_With no forewarning, mind you._

The evil man was probably _supposed_ to give him a forewarning, but he _probably _purposely forgot.

Just to get the kicks out of watching Light nearly wet his panties when he honked the car right behind the unfortunate student as the later was spacing out.

Spacing out whilst imagining equipping his tiny shithole-home Home Alone style, by the way – but this wasn't the point.

The point was, Light did not appreciate Aizawa's presence one bit.

"_Rue_, that's what changed"

Light's blood went cold at the implication of having to talk to Ryuzaki Rue again. He wanted to kick the bastard in the balls, not have another psychologically-scrutinizing conversation with him.

"He wants something from me again?"

"He wants to talk to you. Again. And by the way, this... questioning may _not_ end the way it did last time."

"I can't hang up on him again."

"Not exactly. You will be questioned in the interrogating room as you were, though by him personally this time. You may not insult him of refuse to talk to him, seeing as no phones are involved."

"I have to talk to Ryuzaki Rue in person."

"Yes."

"I thought he was a paranoid freak; he's willing to show his face to someone known to have encountered L?"

"He will be behind a one-way glass."

"Oh. Of course."

The rest of the ride would have passed in awkward silence if the ride itself wasn't just under two hours. Light's iPod battery died quickly seeing as he paid no mind to charging it over the weekend, and a mile-an-hour speed of a traffic jam did little to make the time go faster.

Light fell four seconds short of starting a Rock-Paper-Scissors tournament with himself when Aizawa, equally bored with equal iPod battery remaining, broke first.

"So what happened to your leg?"

"...I fell."

"Raito, you seem to be losing your brilliant ability to lie."

"Hn."

"..."

"..."

"...well than."

"...Rue should be scared, L is gonna go after him," Light finally exploded seemingly out of nowhere.

Interested, Aizawa tuned from the driver's seat to look at Light.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, Rue's scared out of his wits by now. We know L goes after rich bastards if they cheat, lie, kill and steal for their wealth. Rue wouldn't be scared if he didn't fall into that category."

"I see..."

"I find it a lot easier to just trial the bastard ourselves so he can rot in prison, he'll be safe from L in prison, won't he. Or maybe L should get him, that'd be a lot easier also."

"Yes. Mogi warned me about this..."

"What?"

"Ranting and Rue-bashing. You've been doing that a lot lately, he tells me."

"Hn."

Light really wouldn't want anyone to be dealt in a way he saw L deal with his victim. No one, not even the worst enemy of humanity. Right now however, he needed a scapegoat, and harmless exaggerating won't cause much harm. Ryuzaki Rue was more likely to be guilty then not.

Besides, Light physically injured his foot because of the bastard. He totally deserved bashing.

Aizawa backtracked the conversation to where it was still a good one.

"L does not limit himself only to the guilty, by far not. We got a fax about it yesterday... well, more like a _literally essay_ written by four FBI agents who had been on the case for two years. With notes, evidence and possible intent._ Two hundred and fourteen_ pages of it. Not just Rue, everybody should be afraid."

Light considered this. Though news and internet labeled all L victims as innocent, it was obvious they were not. Rich bastards were the minority of the victims, actually. L also 'liked' rapists, serial killers and vegetarians.

Some of the fallen were children under sixteen, though those were dealt with in much less of a grotesque manner.

Quite a few had been guilty of nothing more then cheating on their spouse.

Many had done nothing wrong at all. No connections between the victims. Hundreds of victims around the world. From rooms full of butchered to single incidents of poisoning, the way of killings varied greatly. Many times all that pointed to L was the business card.

Hundreds of victims. Not as much as a hair for evidence.

Hundreds of victims no restrictions, all completely random.

Why was Light still alive?

"..."

"Ryuzaki Rue is also known to be a coward and hide like a coward and run from danger at first whiff of it."

That was one thing that bothered Light the most.

He knew this; Rue was the king of cowards.

Then why was Ryuzaki Rue in the lair of the beast when the beast was hungry?

**

* * *

**

"Like I told you eight last times, I don't remember what he looked like."

"General details please, Yagami-san. How tall is he? Are you certain about 'his' gender? Hair? What is his nationality? Any identifying articles of clothing? _Horns_ and a _tail_, perhaps?"

Light was begging to lose his composure the minute he walked into the interrogating room. Half an hour later, he was drained.

Ryuzaki Rue's voice, coming from the speakers managed to be calm and at the same time aggressive and demanding. Just like last time. It made Light feel naked, exposed.

"About my height. Male. Black hair. He had light skin. Blue jeans and a shirt. No tail, don't know about horns."

"Those details are too general, Yagami-san. Please be more specific."

Light let out a long and heavy sigh as he took his face into his hands.

_For fuck's sake. _

He couldn't take this much longer.

"Alright, let us start from the begging, Yagami-san. Please describe the manner in which this _man_ proceeded to skin the victim's left arm..."

-

Behind the one-way glass, Soichiro Yagami could not take it much longer either. Light, his only son who should be in mental rehab right now among comfort and non-stress and other things that helped one's mental recovery, instead of sitting in the interrogation room and being drilled with questions answers to which will haunt him for the rest of his life.

On the other side of the mirror, Light sat alone in a small room, feeble and wretched to his core. Poor boy looked just about ready to cry.

Soichiro's fists tightened and his nails dug deeper into his palms. Here he was, helplessly watching this... thing that was Ryuzaki Rue, destroy his son.

And what a thing it was.

At first glance, Ryuzaki Rue looked filthy. His old jeans were tattered and the bottom rim was torn and threaded from extensive use. Smears decorated its sides and there were patches everywhere. Old jeans hung loosely around the man's hips, revealing a patch of very pale belly-skin.

The v-neck shirt Ryuzaki Rue wore was surprisingly bleach-clean.

Soichiro wondered if Rue decided to wear a clean shirt for the sake of the occasion.

Physically, the man looked shabby; his skin and bones gave impression that they could easily be snapped like twigs. His skin was pale, sickly and yet smooth and flawless, porcelain almost.

Rue's face was something else entirely.

Thin, white lips, pointy nose and deep, large black eyes. Ryuzaki Rue only seemed to have large black pupils for eyes as if no color was ever present there to begin with. Huge black bags framed his eyes, and his overall features made him look intelligent and experienced despite his age.

Which Soichiro placed to be somewhere between sixteen and thirty.

No, really.

The chief of Japanese National Police, Kanto Region, whose specialty was profiling and description adaptation, could not place age or race to the _creature_ sitting beside him.

Ryuzaki's inky and wild hair made Soichiro guess Asian heritage at first, but then he reconsidered, seeing as the man's cheekbones were much too low to be Asian. Caucasian? No white male could have such a small build and large eyes. Slavic? Native American?

An in-bread mix of everything?

Rue's hair looked like it hadn't been washed for weeks, though that appeared to be not the case when Chief Yagami walked by Rue and nearly chocked on the overwhelming smell of very strong soap.

Simply put, the vile thing that was driving his handsome son up a wall and into an early grave took a bath in laundry detergent this morning.

Every time Rue opened his mouth, out came nothing but demands, orders and some inside mockery only Rue himself could understand.

He sat crouched in his chair, leaning over the microphone. He was eating cake with tea.

With his knees pressed tightly against his chest, as if he was protecting himself from something.

Soichiro Yagami, despite everything, felt sympathy for the little hermit.

Rue looked... sad and lonely.

Still though, he couldn't help but get mixed feelings about Ryuzaki Rue.

And it disturbed him. It all did. Behind shabby clothing, sickly appearance and kicked puppy behind a wall look, lurked intelligence. The kind of sick intelligence that made Soichiro uneasy.

The same kind of sick intelligence that lurked in Rue's black eyes when he asked Light specific details of the ugly murder.

Sick, intelligent _pleasure._ This creature was getting the kicks out of this.

Soichiro could take this no more.

"Stop this, Ryuzaki-san, right now, stop this."

'Ryuzaki' did not move his eyes away from Light (who by the way was begging to fidget in his chair), but stopped his line questioning.

"You had enough time with him," Soichiro continued. "Leave him be, he obviously can't remember anything about L."

Ryuzaki said nothing but made no sign of complying.

Watari, Ryuzaki's 'personal assistant' that looked more like a battler but Soichiro knew better and labeled the man 'Ryuzaki Rue's Caretaker' approached the young man from behind and quietly said a few words in English.

Ryuzaki still did not move.

The ever-present team of four, as Soichiro called Matsuda, Aizawa, Mogi and Ide held their breath. Well, three of them did, anyway.

"Come on, Rue-san, please let him go now, he's really stressed and he won't remember anything anyway, like last time we questioned him. He was drunk that day to I think, so he won't know..."

"Matsuda-san."

Rue spoke and Matsuda snapped military-style.

"Yes sir!"

"I will determine when I have finished interrogating my witness, thank you."

"But... but! He obviously can't remember L!"

"He was there and he is not dim-whittled. He should be able to answer simple questions like _how tall L is_!"

"But he was drunk! Besides, he said he was about as tall himself!"

"Shut your mouth, Matsuda!" Aizawa pitched in.

"I apologize for incompetence of our witness; however Rue-san _was warned_ that Raito would be next to useless in identifying L. This is clear now. Please end this."

"It clear that he was not interrogated enough. Please sit down and I will end questioning him in his due time."

"He can't take it! Just look at him, he's about to go into like... a panic attack!.."

"Matsuda-san, please shut your mouth."

-

Light was obviously unaware of the argument commencing behind the one-way mirror. All he knew was that Ryuzaki Rue's microphone was dead for quite a while now.

"Hello? Anyone there? What's going on?"

No response.

Huh.

Maybe this Ryuzaki decided to end his interrogation mid-sentence? Unlikely, but possible. He could always hope because all he wanted right now was to go home, or at least make it to the nearest bathroom and throw up and then cry. He felt dead inside.

"Hello? Am I free to go now?"

Still nothing.

Odd.

Light looked at the door. Might as well, it shouldn't be locked. They were wasting his time anyway.

He _would_ get up from his chair, reach for the knob, open it, leave...

The door burst open before he could even _mentally _reach it.

First thing he saw was his father, almost physically blocking the way of another person, trying to prevent him from entering...

Person...

One glimpse was all it took...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

With his hands high in the air, Light fell out of his chair and continued to scream.

Behind the one-way mirror, the remaining team chuckled at the thought of Ryuzaki Rue being able to scare a grown child with his horrid appearance alone.

Soichiro stilled because he had never seen his son raise his voice, let alone cry out like that.

Ryuzaki Rue leaned against the door frame and locked his eyes with Light.

Light let out another terrified cry. Slowly he raised his violently trebling hand and pointed a shaky finger at Rue and screamed again.

The team of four made it out from the back room to try to calm him down.

His father was saying something...

He heard nothing, he could not understand or make out words or _see_...

All Light Yagami saw was black eyes, those black eyes, he'd seen those eyes once before.

Once.

He continued to scream.

Breath left him, he started to choke and he felt his heart go haywire.

He kept screaming.

Hands were on him trying to force him up, tell him something...

He felt and heard and saw nothing but _the man_.

"YOU! YOU! I SAW YOU! IT WAS YOU! YOU!"

--

By the time Light was hurled into the headquarters' Med Room and injected with some mild tranquilizers, he himself realized he'd had a panic attack.

The realization though came empty and as more of a by-the-way thought than anything else. Just like everything that was entering and exiting his circle of thoughts. Nothing really had a meaning, nothing felt too important to pay much thought to, and nothing really mattered.

Everything was empty, shallow and unimportant, so Light sat on his med cot and stared blankly at the opposing wall as if the wall was the sole important thing in the universe. His breathing was on autopilot; unfortunately his blinking was not, so his retinas were quickly drying out.

"Raito-kun! Raito-kun, can you hear me? Raito-kun, you have to blink..."

Light absently did as he was told. Once. Then the function was forgotten again.

"Raito-kun..."

"He's in shock"

"Son, son can you hear me? Come on Raito snap out of it, we'll give you meds and then I'll take you home to see your mother and Sayu, just lie back down..."

Light could hear the door crack open, but he regarded it as something also unimportant; nobody in the room noticed it either.

"Shiba-sensei, give him something already!"

"You can't just stuff the boy full of meds; poor thing's scared out of his wits. I gave him all I could already, he needs rest and _therapy_ like I _told_ Yagami-san he _should_ be getting _four days ago! _Really, nobody listens to the doctor anymore."

"I know it's my fault Takako-san. He can come home with me, I'll get him some therapy, I was too hard on him those few months I know it... what else can I do for him?"

"Rest, peace and loving atmosphere. The usual. He was under so much stress already, then the whole event and the aftermath... A grown man can't handle this, but a teenage boy..."

"How long'll he be like that?"

"You should be familiar with shock Matsuda, don't ask stupid questions."

"But it's Raito-kun..."

"He can snap out of it somewhere between the next few minutes and a few months. Matsuda, don't ask stupid questions. What triggered this?"

"We're not... sure. Ryuzaki Rue did I think, well Raito was pointing and screaming at him so we're sure Ryuzaki Rue triggered this, but I don't see..."

Light visibly cringed at the name.

"Mogi don't say his _name_! Calm down Raito, its okay..."

"Raito really doesn't like that guy though; he was ranting about him all weekend."

"Hm?"

"Oh you don't know, he was all like 'Rue sucks, Rue's a buttshole, blah blah!'. He has the right to though; Rue's not a pleasant person. Not that pretty to look at, probably scared Raito-kun with his looks..."

"_It wasn't his clothes."_

Light said this, his voice monotone and quiet. The room went silent.

"I'm alright, and it wasn't his clothes. Ryuzaki Rue is the man I saw at the Koi Pond four nights ago."

For a while nobody said a word.

"Raito, I know this is stressful for you, you may think things that didn't happen and your mind is playing tricks on you..."

"No. Ryuzaki Rue is the man I saw at the Koi Pond four nights ago. I'm sure of it. It was Ryuzaki Rue."

"Alright, let's get you home now..."

"No dad. I'm not crazy and I can think perfectly. No, just listen to me," he said as Mogi was trying to approach him.

The little wheels and screws that turned the delicate mechanism of his brain were working at their full capacity. Everything that was screwing with his brain up until now was gone.

Light Yagami could finally think again, his mind was clear and he saw things he'd missed before. Everything clicked in its place, every little piece fit perfectly, and the fault of not recognizing it for what it all really meant fell on his disturbed mindset.

Not now though. His genius came back.

When he was sure he had everyone's complete attention, he elaborated.

"Ryuzaki Rue is L. There is no doubt he's the man I saw. It explains how he knew there was a witness. There was no leak, everyone on this investigation team are faithful to the investigation and would leak nothing. Ryuzaki Rue knew there was a witness because he _left_ a witness."

"He insisted on interrogating me himself to see if I remembered him. When that failed, he decided to test if I would recognize him when I saw his person. I did. Ryuzaki Rue is L."

When nobody interrupted him, he went on.

"Ryuzaki Rue, and I mean the real one, is likely dead. The real Ryuzaki Rue is a rich bastard that falls into the category of L's targets; this makes it easier for L to kill him. Ryuzaki Rue is also an antisocial freak that _nobody's _seen before. It was easy as hell for L to assume his identity. Think about it, why would Ryuzaki Rue suddenly show himself to us when he successfully avoided the _world_ his entire life?"

Even Matsuda assumed a thinking expression.

"Raito... let's get you home, alright?"

"Dad you can't be serious!"

"Raito, look... you've been though a lot. How about this, I take you home, your mother will make you a nice cup of tea and we all go to bed. I want you to come home with me, no more of the living alone business, we'll move your things back tomorrow morning. None of the L business for you either, not until you're feeling better, alright?"

"Dad!"

"No Raito, listen to me. You make a good point, but you can't walk around accusing people on no grounds. I know you think things are real but they are not, do you understand?"

"I'm telling you, Ryuzaki Rue is the-"

"Raito-kun, please listen to your dad, okay? Like five minutes ago you couldn't remember what L looked like and now you suddenly recognize him, and then you say Rue is L, and then you had a panic attack just now! You need to be healthy, we need you to be healthy, you're gonna join police in a few years and we need you badly, so please calm down and take it easy!"

Light couldn't believe this. Even Matsuda..?

"I know it makes sense in your head, it totally makes sense in my head too, but..."

"Matsuda's right, Raito. It's more than clear that you dislike Ryuzaki Rue. It's not that we're accusing you of anything kid, but you have to understand this doesn't look too good for you; you were accusing Rue of random crimes all weekend and now _this_ is just-"

"I'm not making this up!"

"Son, we know you're not, it's the stress tricking your brain. You were almost crying in the interrogation room. Trauma and pressure can do that to you. What you need to do right now is calm down and go home-"

"Dad I'm not making this up! Rue's a person you know when you see him! I swear I saw him that night, I'm telling you-"

"Enough of this please!"

The door that cracked open earlier now burst open completely, revealing Ryuzaki Rue in all his shabby glory.

Light cowered away to the far side of his cot while his father and Matsuda both stood up.

"Rue-san..."

"You may call me Ryuzaki."

_He must've been spying..._

"I have been spying on this conversation," Ryuzaki declared.

_No shit huh._

"...and I encourage the Japanese Task Force to regard any accusations moved forward by Yagami Raito-san in regards to me as completely untrue manifestations of troubled imagination."

_And that's how you talk, do you. _

Now that Light got over the initial shock, he finally could get a good look at this 'Ryuzaki', and he was getting quite an eyeful.

The tall, slouching creature in tattered jeans and a clean three-quarter sleeve shirt stood good five and a half feet above the ground; should he stand up to his full height he would be Light's even.

Long black hair framed his face, the pure black and shiny, the kind of black hair Asian people dyed their hair to have and yet the hair Ryuzaki had was obviously not dyed. In fact, it looked like it hadn't received a good brushing in years and the last haircut Ryuzaki got was done by a blind person with plastic safety scissors.

His facial features were... odd. Light couldn't call the man before him ugly in any way because he certainly was not. His skin was pale and grayish, sickly-looking but very even and smooth. The kind of skin that was tanned by the cold glow of a monitor for years.

Thin lips, pointy sharp nose. But it were the eyes that Light recognized above all else. The large, round black eyes that looked though you should you be of no importance, the eyes that ate your soul out should their owner look at you with interest. Very intelligent eyes.

And of course the ever-prominent bags under those eyes indicated that Ryuzaki hadn't had a minute of sleep in his whole entire life.

A creepy-looking person otherwise. Not that hard to believe that the man before him was a violent mass-murderer.

Minus of course the totally random pink lollipop Ryuzaki was happily lapping at.

"Right, Ryuzaki-san I don't believe it's a good idea for you to be in my son's presence right now. He obviously is not in his... correct state of mind at the moment."

"Yes, that much is apparent." Ryuzaki made no move to leave whatsoever.

"I'm in my right mind, father."

"No Yagami Raito-san, I am afraid you are not. I am unsure of what the intentions behind your accusations are, but I assure you nothing this ridiculous would hold true, especially considering your obvious dislike of me-"

"A witness is a witness and I saw you-"

"_Also_," apparently Ryuzaki did not like to be interrupted, "whatever credibility Yagami Raito-san had is now completely destroyed, considering his repeated outbursts of dislike towards me, is that correct Yagami-san?"

Light's father nodded.

"Dad, you can't just-"

For the first time, Ryuzaki wasn't addressing everyone in the room; he directly locked his eyes with Light's and Light lost his words.

"It is not up to Yagami Raito-san's father, it is up to the law. Also, should Yagami Raito-san choose to pursue me with the accusations he had laid on me, I would like to inform him that he should be holding sold proof in one hand, a warrant in his other hand and a government court order in his foot before he can approach me with the mentioned."

"So you're saying-"

"What I am saying is, unfortunately I have way too much money for Yagami Raito-san to point an accusing finger at me without any solid evidence, so I suggest against it, Raito-san."

"You sick bastard! I won't drop this so easily!"

Ryuzaki stared at Light icily.

"Well then, I suppose_**the gam-**_"

Somebody's phone rang cut Ryuzaki off.

"For crying out loud Matsuda you're supposed to turn your phone off!"

"Sorry, sorry..."

Matsuda reached in his pocket for the phone but didn't hand up when he saw the caller ID.

"Chief, it's director Takimura..."

"Damn it, our phones were off..."

"Chief, it's for you..."

His father took the phone. Within the minute he was listening to Takimura, his expression went from frustrated, to concerned, to angry, to the pale disturbed expression he had that day at the crime scene.

"There had been another L murder. Yotsuba this time," his father said gravely after hanging up.

The overcrowded medical room fell silent, and everyone was looking at Light and Ryuzaki.

Light himself was looking at Ryuzaki.

_**The gam**__e is on, isn't it? That's what you wanted to say, you bastard, wasn't it?_


	4. A Businessmen’s Scheme

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, in attempt to be just like my hero I stopped washing my hair, developed a horrible posture and six cavities and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH4**

**A Businessmen's Scheme**

"On grounds that have to do with time of death, I have obviously not murdered this poor man as I was interrogating Yagami Raito-san at that time."

"My name is _Raito_ and I'm sure you could've managed."

"Is _Raito_ Yagami-san attempting to convince the respectable Japanese Task Force that I perhaps have an evil twin that slaughters people at his leisure?"

"Why go to extremes? Having an evil twin is only that much likely compared to _you_ slaughtering people at _your _leisure."

"Raito Yagami-san is very hostile."

"Please call me Raito, _Ryuzaki-san_."

"Oh? I'm afraid simply calling Raito Yagami-san by his first name alone seems hardly appropriate."

"You insisted we call you by your first name so it seems only appropriate I would want the same to go for me."

"Ah, that makes a good argument... But Raito Yagami-san has a lovely last name. Mine is a little too... morbid for my own taste."

"Perhaps we should call you Ryuzaki _L-san_?"

"Raito-san is very hostile."

"You yourself said that '**the gam**e is on', _L_!"

"For the last time, I was quoting Ambrose Bierce! '_**The gam**__bling known as business looks with austere disfavor upon the business known as gambling'!"_

"That's completely irrelevant! You're _so _lying!"

"Raito-san is very hostile!"

A little more than disturbed by the idiocy of the situation, the Japanese Task Force was tending the crime scene some twenty feet away.

Arayoshi Hatori, Age 33, VP of Marketing for Yotsuba Group, lay face down in a pool of his own vomit and bodily fluids, the trail of the mess he had made originating just a few feet off from the bickering boys.

"...so what are the _children _doing here, again?" said Aizawa as he threw a dirty look at the pair.

"Ryuzaki demanded to be at a scene so he could make sure we are handling the whole L affair to our full efficiency and since the brutality of this murder is minimal, there is no harm in allowing Light in on it because he helped our other investigations already, so Light's presence will increase the efficiency, that's what he said... in a much more sophisticated vocabulary."

"Sounded to me more like 'let's bring Raito-kun to the scene so he can see I didn't do this and I can rub his face into it, la la la.'" Matsuda pouted unhappily. "When are the crime scene guys gonna be done so we can actually swipe the place?"

Certainly, taking a walk around castle-like mansion of one of the top eight Yotsuba executives was an appealing idea. The size of the manor was something to gawk at alone, not to mention the magnitude of decorations and a heavy price tag on the whole thing.

Light wasn't too happy that the team that was supposed to be_ investigating_ and keeping him _safe_ from _that maniac with gummy bears over there_, was too busy staring at all the gorgeous and expansive things around Hatori's house.

The decorating wasn't done by the dead man personally anyway; some designer really cashed in on this gig.

But seriously.

"Do they know the exact time of death yet at least? And is the card real?" Light eyed the trademark L business card un-pinned from the back of Hatori's very expensive suit and now located in a plastic evidence bag.

"TOD is at four hours ago, and the card has to go though the lab and get clearances for comparison, very secret stuff," Matsuda's back of the head told Light as the rest of the young detective's body was almost physically admiring a particularly ugly painting. "We're actually got the results from that card at the Koi Pond yesterday. Took 'em like what, three days?"

Light sighed.

Was the Yotsuba executive murdered in this large and beautiful room purposely to distract the detectives?

Even his father seemed side-tracked and at loss, and Light understood this was for different reasons entirely. Soichiro tried all means to keep Ryuzaki away from him, but it wasn't too long before Ryuzaki started playing dirty and threatened to cut funding if he and Light weren't included in the investigation, leaving the old man no choice.

Light could tell his father did not trust Ryuzaki even the tiniest bit, and Light knew if he didn't come up with something against Ryuzaki fast, he'd be very much dead by tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately for him, the creepy bastard's childish and very _un_-threatening antics managed to throw Light off.

Particularly when the said creepy bastard failed to open a bottle of sweets with a child-protection lock on its lid.

No, really. A flipping _child-protection lock._ Even Matsuda opened the bloody thing for him in two seconds.

"Matsuda-san, is there an identified cause of death as of yet?"

"Well, poisoning, obviously," Mogi answered for his colleague. "If my guess is any good, looks like Sarin."

"_Sarin is a form of a very rare and dangerous gaseous poison," _Ryuzaki began to dictate in a tone that was getting typical of him, _"Extremely toxic substance whose sole application is as a nerve agent. As a chemical weapon, it is classified as a weapon of mass destruction by the United Nations in UN Resolution 687. Production and stockpiling of Sarin was outlawed by the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1993."_

Light stared at the man icily.

"You seem to know a little too much about this Ryuzaki-san. What is this, the definition from the textbook where you got the _recipe_?"

"No." Ryuzaki stared back at him with his huge eyes and very seriously hooked his index finger in the air, "_Wikipedia_."

"You conveniently memorized _Wikipedia's_ detention of Sarin just in time for this?"

"I have memorized the entire Wikipedia, Raito-san."

"You're lying."

"Raito-san is very hostile."

"Settle down, you two," the chief of Kanto's NPA muttered. The CSI guys, (who were purposely misinformed of the real situation of the crime) were packed up already.

"The house's all yours, gentlemen," on of them said to Soichiro. "Off-record, aren't you supposed to be on the L investigation?"

"Limited resources. Taking care of this in-between," the head of NPA responded automatically.

The men left.

"Who exactly is informed of the situation, Yagami-san?"

"The entire team you saw the headquarters; they are to stay inside and investigate the evidence, the patterns. The officers you see here, Mogi, Ide, Aizawa, Matsuda and myself are going to work this in-field, I assure you we are more then over-qualified and capable. You and Raito. Nobody else."

"No one else knows about Raito being our witness either," said Matsuda.

"Witness_es_," Light corrected. "The hotel clerk, remember?"

Everyone seemed to have forgotten the hotel clerk that checked him and L into that dump of a hotel Light woke up at just two nights ago.

Ryuzaki looked at the investigation team suspiciously.

"And just why is it that I was not informed of the existence of a _second_ witness, Yagami-san?"

"Well," the oldest detective began hesitantly, "it wasn't that we were hiding her. She's no use of us because she's dead.

Dead. Light's heart sunk.

"...L-"

"No, not L. Her girlfriend killed her in a fit of jealousy the very morning after he saw you and L, very unfortunate, she was very young and could have helped us clear up this... mess. Kyomi Takada, we caught her twenty minutes after she did it; she will be out on bail tomorrow. Trial in two months. L has no connection to her murder, I assure you, Ryuzaki-san," Soichiro added quickly.

Kyomi Takada, third year of To-oh, one of Light's many ex-girlfriends... was strong and proud on the outside but a complete mental mess inside. Light wasn't that surprised; but really, just his luck.

"Yeah. Oh, didn't Raito-kun go to the To-oh with Takada?"

"Yes, I did, I can't believe she would do something like this."

"Could we please move on with the investigation now?" Ryuzaki ordered, and everyone snapped and scattered around the spacious sitting-room. "Raito-san stays and speaks with me."

"What is it, Ryuzaki-san?"

"Raito-san has lied just now," the black-haired hermit announced, "brilliantly," he added.

"What are you talking about?"

"Takada-san. Raito-san _could_ believe Takada-san would do something like this."

Damn it, Aizawa was right, Light was losing his ability to lie; though a moment after he realized that Ryuzaki was the only one who noticed. Odd.

He tired again.

"Well, I didn't particularly know her, I knew _of_ her, top third-year and everything. A lot of people crack under pressure; it is more than unlikely she would finally snap."

But instead of agreeing with him, Ryuzaki just cocked his head curiously.

"Brilliant," was all he said and walked off.

Light stared. He was sure he nailed that one, and though people like Aizawa could sense he was a liar, no one, no one ever has caught him in act. So he just stared at Ryuzaki's back as the later was digging a wall with his fingernail like it was the most important task in the world.

But then again, Ryuzaki was odd, and so was everything about him. Light could sense Ryuzaki's dangerous mind; though the boy wasn't exactly sure of its extent, he knew for certain that it was entirely different from anything he had ever encountered.

It was scary, scarier even than the fact that Ryuzaki was L.

He was a genius, maybe even of a higher caliber than Light himself.

_Someone smarter than me._

"I have discovered a vital piece relevant to the investigation!" Ryuzaki suddenly announced, catching immediate attention of everyone in the room.

"This," he pointed to the wall he was just picking at, "is a wall."

_Or maybe not. _

"Yes, Ryuzaki-san, this is a wall," Light said, annoyed as he came to stand behind the man to look at 'the vital piece' for the lack of anything better to do.

"Is this not important?"

"No."

"But houses have walls, is this not important?"

"It's just a wall, Ryuzaki-san."

"But it is a _different_ wall."

"No, just a wall."

"Walls in my house don't do this," Ryuzaki scathed at the wall and some plaster dust came off.

"It's drywall Ryuzaki-san. Very common and fast to build, nothing important."

Really now. Did he have nothing better to do than _peel his own walls_?

Walls in Ryuzaki's house are probably solid walls, concrete, wood panel, block, something like that. Beautiful ones that weren't insulated since he could afford to have the heat cranked up all year if he wanted to.

Expansive walls.

_Rich slob. _

Hold on. Weren't they in a house of a _rich slob_?

Light made his way to the adjoining wall and scratched it – nothing, a block wall.

"Hmm."

He came back to Ryuzaki where the odd man was still staring at the odd wall.

"Hm, this wall _is _different," Light stared at it for a minute.

"Renovation?" Matsuda said from behind the duo.

"Most likely."

Light examined the wall again. The drywall took only a piece of the continuous wall with French doors and numerous paintings. The rest of it was solid block. A shelf with various decorations. A lamp, a power outlet with a cord sticking out of it.

"Probably some contractor's idea of keeping whatever budget gets left over," said Mogi who was inspecting the contents of this wall. "Anyway kid, get over here and help me take down this painting; there's a safe behind it. Doubt it, but maybe L wanted this guy's luchmoney... or maybe Hatori's hiding something. And if Ryuzaki-san isn't too busy, maybe he can help me too."

_A drywall. A drywall versus a solid wall. _

_A solid wall is just solid. A wall. A solid wall. _

_A drywall is done on frame walls. _

_Frame walls are frames with drywall over them..._

_A frame wall..._

Power outlets. Hidden power outlets, in fact this particular one was the first one Light had seen in Hatori's entire house.

This one was odd too. Just like the wall it was sticking out of.

And the cord led to... the illuminator behind Mogi's painting.

But all other paintings had illuminators behind them also, and a powersourse was apparently built-in into the wall for each one of them.

But this painting, the painting with a safe behind it...

"MOGI DON'T TOUCH THAT PAINTING!" Raito yelled suddenly, causing Ryuzaki to nearly trip and grab onto his shoulder for balance. "Nobody touch anything!"

"Raito, what-", his father began.

"That's a frame wall! A frame wall is a _framed wall_, a hollow wall with a cavity in it. Empty space!" Light half-yelled in panic. "The outlet!" he pointed.

The team that gathered around the wall looked at the innocent power outlet with a cord that led towards the illuminator.

"The powersourse for the illuminator in the same as for all the other ones, it's built-in the solid wall, and the fake drywall ends before the painting! The cord is fake just like the wall; the cord goes into the illuminator, into the powersourse and exists behind the painting where the safe is!"

Ryuzaki was the first one who understood, because before Light could finish that sentence, he was already running towards the exit door.

"The safe is connected to whatever the hell is _inside _that wall though that fake cord and fake outlet!"

Aizawa and the Chief started running for the door as well, and Mogi was already on the phone.

"I need the Bomb Squad in here, NOW!"

-

"Raito-san has saved us all!" Said Ryuzaki in triumph as he stared at Light with the most cliché stare of worship an hour later as the Bomb Squad was exiting the building with a freshly deactivated explosive device. Light was right.

_The bastard knew_, Light thought, _he practically spoon-fed that damn wall to me. If I haven't noticed, he would've pointed it out himself. _

_Why?_

_Why would he want to see Light figuring it out?_

_Why the hell would L expose something he himself set up?_

"Raito-san is very, very intelligent! His personal records that I have obtained praise his intelligence but I was not expecting this! Inelegance is a very attractive trait, Raito-san!" Ryuzaki was quipping and then his face dropped and went completely blank and his wide eyes widened to impossible size. "I am impressed," he said comically in monotone.

_So you were testing how smart I was?_

_What the hell for, did you go though all that trouble setting up that bomb to see me figure it out? Would explain you coming along with us..._

_And now that you've been in danger and 'almost killed', it surely makes you look less like L..._

_But how did you set this up?_

_You were interrogating me when you killed him..._

The only piece that did not fit was just how the hell did Ryuzaki pull this off. Not personally? No, L worked alone, killed people himself, personally.

_How did you do this?_

_And how did you know I would recognize you so you would set this up?_

That was simple, Ryuzaki could in no way possibly know Light would recognize him as L, and time this so perfectly; there were simply to many variables left to chance...

_Unless..._

_I'm looking at this completely the wrong way._

"I have a better theory," Light began slowly, the idea still developing in his mind.

"Hatori was killed in his own house. This is not very important if you think about it, but his house is gorgeous. We all were gawking and distracted. Maybe the reason he was murdered there was so that we would all be distracted. And not notice the wall."

"The crime scene guys bag the evidence, look for murder weapons, those things, they secure _evidence_, bag it and_ leave it where it was found_, for the investigators. They don't check anything that doesn't catch their immediate attention."

Yes, this made a lot more sense, and Light frowned at it. This wasn't good, not for him personally anyway.

"Now, this is where the investigation _team_ comes in, this is where we already know L did this. What is one of the first things we check in a wealthy house?"

"The safe," Matsuda called out.

Ryuzaki was sitting perched up in the far chair now, just staring at Light with no expression with his thumb in his mouth. If the man could look surprised, Light figured this would be it.

"Yes, the safe. Now, we touch the safe, we get blown up."

"So L was targeting _us_?" asked Mogi doubtfully.

"Targeting everyone and every_thing_ that was in the room. That bomb would set fire..."

Ryuzaki had tiny smile on his lips, one that stretched the lower portion of his face and softened his eyes. It was a careful smile, one that was appreciative; the kind that said 'good job, you did well, I wasn't expecting this', and since Ryuzaki sat behind everyone else, the tiny smile was only for Light to see.

It was a good smile.

_You're adorable, you goddamn psychotic killer._

"...so it would destroy the evidence."

"Why would L destroy the evidence if we already know its L anyway?"

"Exactly," Light finished with a heavy heart. "This is an L murder because L is known to be here, L is known to go after rich slobs and he left the L card, typical of an L murder."

"We see the evidence and conclude L murdered Hatori. Then the evidence gets destroyed before we get to test it, but everything fits anyway so we still believe L murdered Hatori."

Light's father dropped heavily into a nearby sofa.

"L did _not _kill Hatori, this was just a very good cover-up," Light said finally.

_You didn't do it after all. _

"So what now?" asked Aizawa, "Do we just follow the money?"

"Who would profit from the death of a top Yotsuba executive?"

"Yotsuba itself."

At this point, Ryuzaki was giving Light shameless bedroom eyes.

**

* * *

  
**

Exhausted, Light stumbled back to his tiny rented flat at two in the morning again. This was bad. He'd already missed quite a few lectures and hadn't showed up for work for nearly a week. The flashing answering machine told him that there was a high chance it held a message that would happily inform him that he was fired.

He didn't care though. Not now anyway. He'd check the message and figure something out tomorrow. At this point, he'd been more then willing to take a few weeks off school and move back in with his family.

He was exhausted. From school, from work, from life, from _L_.

Ryuzaki now demanded that because of Light's brilliance, Light should work the L case along with the rest of the team.

He needed a brake.

Absently he looked around his living room. Dim, enough light came from the streetlights outside to see his belongings, but still fairly dark. Not much to look at – some old furniture he bought from a Thrift store. Books. School things. An armchair with The Myth of Male Power balanced on one of the handles.

Oh he remembered how he hated that book. It dealt with power and superiority – something he could easily analyze and present as something what the professor was looking for, yet something he altogether disagreed with.

That book...

First semester.

He had not touched that book since first semester.

It was now second.

He had neatly put it away in the shelf with the rest of the useless garbage school made him read and swore he would never touch the filthy thing again.

It was now second semester.

Light knew he had not touched this book for _months_.

He had definitely not moved it from the shelf to the armchair.

He had never even used that chair.

Someone else did.

Someone _else_ sat in that chair; someone _else_ took out that book.

Someone other than him was in his apartment.

Rather...

Someone else was in his apartment, someone was expecting him, someone spent their time reading that book and sitting in that chair while waiting for him to get home.

Someone was in his home with him right at that moment.

He unfroze a moment later, pretending that he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, took off his jacket, made his way back to the closet by the front door.

_Just pretend you don't know he's here. Just get back to the door and..._

He casually put his jacket on the hanger, flicked the light switch on... nothing.

"Huh?" He tried again, suppressing the urge to panic. No luck. The lights were dead.

_Well, this might be a good thing..._

"Gah, stupid light bulb..." he muttered as if to himself, "Bet the neighbors have some extra ones..."

He heard a shuffling noise behind him, small but he was sure he heard it.

_Calm down, calm down, he doesn't know you know he's here, just walk..._

Pretending that he heard nothing, he started towards the door.

Another noise...

_Breathe Raito, one step, two, three..._

He darted but a gloved hand came behind him and clamped his mouth shut before he could scream for help. Light was half-expecting this, so he drew his foot back to kick his attacker in the kneecaps.

The attacker, who Light was sure was male, easily evaded and instead took Light's head in a headlock while still keeping a hand over his mouth and muffling any screams.

Light tried to elbow the man in the ribs, but that came out with equal success as his first attempted kick. Though as the man evaded that, he had lost some of his ground giving Light an opportunity to retaliate.

He stomped on the man's foot at the same time twisting his body out of the tough grasp, almost successfully if it wasn't for the headlock that only tightened... Light tried for the kneecaps again, this time knocking the feet from under his attacker.

The headlock was lost and stumbling, Light ran for the door, and only a few feet away from the door he was tackled to the ground.

He opened his mouth to scream but a hand slammed into his back so hard it knocked the breath out of him and all that left his throat was a low whimper of pain. He attempted to turn around but the attacker grabbed his hair roughly and held his face to the ground.

Getting up again was not an option since the man was sitting directly on top of him and holding him down with insane force.

Light tried screaming again but his mouth was clamed shut and he could taste his own blood and the leather of the glove in his mouth almost immediately. His lungs hurt, so did his tongue because he probably bit on it amongst the chaos.

He could hear the man's labored breathing come closer to his ear.

"Easy, you don't want me to gag your pretty mouth do you now?"

The voice came in a whisper, a hushed low tone and Light immediately understanding the implication of the situation started tearing violently from his attacker.

'_Inelegance is a very attractive trait, Raito-san!'_

_No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO NO FUCK NO... _

His efforts were futile, but when the man holding him down realized they would not cease, he grabbed Light's hands and with much effort tied them behind his back.

"Temporary," he said still in a whisper and Light realized that the bastard won't speak up above it: not many people knew that although voices differed from person to person, whispers were virtually undistinguishable.

Though Light had a pretty good idea who his attacker was anyway.

He was lifted to his feet and rougly shoved back into the apartment, further from the door. A hand still held his mouth firmly shut and he was positioned in a way that even as they walked, the man was pressed into his back and his own head was directed straight ahead so he could not as much as turn back and steal a look at the man.

Now though, looking at him was not his top priority. Getting away was...

They stopped, well the man stopped while Light still continued his attempts to wrestle out of that damn strong grasp.

"Hush now, I shall not hurt you."

"Mmmph!" _Won't fucking hurt me? Who the fuck are you kidding?!_

And then he saw it. A syringe on his coffee table, yet another little something he had definitely not put there. He tore, jumped, tried to kick, no luck, and he was forced down on his knees and a hand reached out from behind him and grabbed the needle.

Light's fighting got desperate.

"Mmggh!!"

"I said hush, this will calm you down."

_Fuck..._

In horror, Light watched helplessly as he the needle pocked him in the main artery just under his throat.

_It's fucking over._

"It'll start working in a minute, hush."

Light whimpered. He could do nothing; there was no point in fighting anymore. What had the bastard given him? GHB? Poison? Some shit that paralyzed him yet kept him awake while the fucker carved him up?

Poor collage kid let out a pathetic sob, barely audible. The grasp on him was loosened the second he got injected and he wasn't in as much pain anymore, but that only comforted him so much.

"Mmh..."

"Mild tranquilizer, a sedative. It will calm you down so you won't fight; it will make things easier. Shh, let it work."

"Mn nu nnnh."

The man sighed.

"I will let you speak if you promise not to scream."

"...Mmh."

"I shall take that as a yes than."

He felt the leather pull away from his lips slightly, enough to allow him to speak yet close enough to clamp his mouth again should he attempt to scream.

It took Light a few moments to gather his breath and enough will to speak. He could already feel the strength leaving his body, leaving behind limp heaviness. At this point, he would not be able to run anymore.

"...who are you?" he asked quietly.

"You have met me before."

"L."

"Yes."

"Ryuzaki."

"No."

"You're lying."

"I am not."

"What do you want?"

"I thought that much is obvious."

"Are you going to kill me after?"

"No."

"You're lying."

By now Light's knees did not hold enough strength to even stand up. He felt exhausted, tired. But not sleepy; he was fully awake. It was his traitorous body that was week and could do nothing.

His power, his strength, his ability to be in control was all stripped away from him. He was helpless. Tears made in to his eyes and he sobbed. He felt powerless, pathetic.

"Hush, I said I shall not hurt you."

Light watched a blindfold cover his own eyes and darkness surrounded him completely.

If he was blindfolded though, that meant that _L_ did not want him to see his face. That meant that there was going to be an 'after'. This was comforting, Light was going to survive.

Survive...

He should not take the blindfold off, he realized. The unknown would be what will keep him alive.

He felt his hands being untied and he was easily lifted to his feet. He could barely move, but his weight was fully supported and slowly he was guided towards his own bedroom.

_Survive... _

"The bed is right behind you, sit down."

Light did as he was told, voluntarily. His hands were untied but still he could do nothing, he heard the leather of the gloves crack as they were being taken off. _Survive..._

He was forced towards the middle and then pushed down into the mattress flat on his back.

He felt the bed dip around him and his shirt was being unbuttoned.

"Would you tell me your name?" the man said conversationally.

"You know my name."

"I would still like to hear it from you."

_Do as he says and you will survive. _

"Yagami Raito."

"Ah. _Light._"

The sound was strange. His name was always pronounced in Japanese and though it was originally English, he never heard it pronounced the correct way; nor had he really ever thought about it. _Light..._

"You may call me L, Light."

"Yes."

His shirt was completely removed and when L started unzipping his pants, Light told himself to focus on something else, anything just not think about what was happening to him.

Like convicting the bastard.

It was Ryuzaki, he was sure of it. He knew it, he just did. Though he could not smell the soap, he could smell water, a lot of pure water – Ryuzaki probably stood under water for hours just to wash away the smell of soap.

He could also smell his own toothpaste on L's breath. Same toothpaste he was using twenty-seven times just this morning. Probably to clean the smell of sugar and rinse his mouth as well so Light couldn't _taste _the sugar either...

_No. Go back to L, just don't think about it. _

The blindfold. Ryuzaki probably wanted to keep up his little game. Light would be allowed to live though this, yet he would be left powerless to point fingers again...

_Because nobody would ever know. _

_Nobody would ever know of this. Of my humiliation. Nobody needs to know. I won't tell anyone, ever. It will be as if this never happened. _

His pants were removed and Light was left in nothing but his socks and briefs, his naked body left to shiver in cold of the room.

L bent over him, and though blindfolded, Light imagined Ryuzaki's face inches away from his own. Softly nipping on his cheek and temple, L gently trailed his lips down to the boys' jaw line and from there continued upwards with small licks and kisses.

_This isn't so bad, _Light told himself. If L was careful enough, he won't hurt him. _Just don't piss him off and it'll be fine..._

He felt a cold hand slide up the warm flesh of his chest to his neck and then snake its way under his head and tangle in his auburn hair. The back of his skull was massaged and he tilted his head back into the touch thus exposing his neck to more small kisses that came there almost immediately.

His breathing was begging to speed up and Light decided to allow it; it would probably be best this way.

L left his neck and trailed his tongue over Light's lower lip, obviously wanting entrance. Light allowed that also and his mouth was invaded. L swiped past his teeth, probing, exploring, before finding Light's tongue and tentatively tried sucking it.

Should he respond?

The hand that wasn't occupied messing up the back of his head trailed one cold finger up his ribs causing a shiver run up Light's spine. L was fully on top of him now; Light could feel what he imagined to be a white three-quarter sleeve shirt pressing tightly against his chest.

L was very cold.

The man trailed his hand fully up his abdomen and pressed an open palm to his ribcage, sliding it up to Light's chest.

"Ah..." he gasped into L's mouth before he could stop himself as the cold flat of the hand went over Light's left nipple. "Aaah..."

Yes, this was alright.

He carefully moved his tongue against L's, enough for it to seem like and accident in case the man wanted him to do nothing but lie flat on his back and expect to be taken.

L grabbed Light's head painfully by the hair, pulled upwards and tilted back, making his mouth open wide for L to invade him completely, with passion.

Light didn't have quite as much 'passion' in him but still he twirled his tongue along with L's in a soothing for himself motion, though not too enthusiastically.

L pinched his nipple then and Light gasped again. Satisfied with the reaction he did so again, harder this time. Light's breath hitched; apparently his nipples were very sensitive and it felt like something very private was being attacked.

L's mouth left his lips, and Light knew that he was being watched now, admired even.

The fingers that so rudely pinched his nipple a moment ago curled and he cried as the man dug his sharp fingernails into the sensitive nub.

That one hurt, but L did so again and Light clenched his teeth. _Damn it... aaah! _

L's mouth, the only part of the man so far that was warm and pleasant descended on his assaulted nipple and licked it gently.

"Mmm..."

L delicately pinched the nipple he left neglected between two fingers and the tip was hardening rapidly.

Light was getting aroused by this; he wasn't sure if that was a good thing but if he was allowed to actually get off, it would hopefully make the experience much more ples—

"Aaaaah!"

L bit his poor nipple harshly and pulled up without releasing it. That definitely hurt but felt good to a much higher degree...

He felt L's knee wedge its way between his legs and nudge on his half-hard member though the underwear.

Light made a pleased noise at the back of his throat and L left his nipple to capture it with his lips, and this time Light opened up quite willingly.

Mmm, this was good... when was it that Light lost his mind to this?

L rubbed his knee against Light's erection and the boy actually nudged his hips forward, if just a little.

"You like that." The foreign vibrations were sent down his throat and Light scraped his teeth against L's tongue, sucking on it and licking it with his own.

He was held firmly now and L's skin was begging to heat up.

Everything was heating up. It was a fucking hundred degrees in this room...

And then Light stilled altogether, and his breathing stopped because L shoved his hand down his underwear and now held him in his hand...

This was oh-so wrong, no, _bad..._

"Shhh," L's soothing voice came to his ear, "I said I won't hurt you, just relax and enjoy this..."

And then Light saw stars when the man fisted him fully and pumped once. It was wonderful, a lot more wonderful then all other handjobs he had ever received, and it felt good and _so wrong..._

He was being kissed again, held close by his shoulders, his hair being stroked soothingly as L's hand worked it's magic and it wasn't long before Light's member was fully erect and standing up proudly.

The little noises that left his lips were all greedily swallowed and his face was being worshiped with kisses... there was no stopping it, it was wonderful...

For the first time during the entire encounter, Light lifted his hands and gathered just enough strength to drape them loosely over the man above him.. his muscles were limp; he wasn't even sure how he could be aroused during this...

Light arched his back as L caressed the tip of his erection, squeezing and tracing the slit.

"Mmm..."

L left his upper body altogether, and it was cold again, though Light's palms remained on the man's shoulders as he trailed heated open-mouthed kisses down the flat of his stomach, dipping his tongue into his naval on his way, and the sensation was delicious.

"Spread your legs."

Obediently Light did as he was told. L used his free hand to rip off the last remaining article of clothing that mattered leaving Light bare in his socks.

The hand that was pleasuring him left his member and unwillingly, Light let out an unsatisfied grunt and which L chuckled.

He then felt his legs being grabbed from underneath his knees and lifted up, bent an then moved far apart, leaving him in L's plain view with nothing left to imagination, and this is where Light woke up from his sexual daze.

This was going to hurt, but pain didn't matter as much as the gravity of the humiliation. His was going to be taken, overpowered, stripped of his dignity and forced into submission. By another man.

It was then that Light realized he would rather that needle had poison in it so he could inject it himself... he would rather die than go though this. He couldn't, he simply couldn't bear it, he thought he could but he couldn't, no...

He felt his own hot tears wet the blindfold.

He felt fear flush though his veins as he felt passion just minutes ago.

He felt L's finders draw tiny circles around his puckered opening.

He felt no strength left in him to clap his legs shut; he felt things, overwhelming things.

He couldn't bear it, he sobbed hard and realized he was losing his erection.

_No, you have to, remember you have to survive, don't piss him off, don't... it's alright..._

But convincing himself was extremely ineffective and his body couldn't fight the violent shivering that suddenly overwhelmed him. Shuddering, he sobbed loudly and turned his head to the side. It was suddenly freezing.

He heard a low sigh come from L's general direction between his own legs. The cold fingertips that were pushing against his tiny hole were now doing nothing but stroking it without much pressure.

He heard the bed crack and felt L come up and lay his head on his shoulder. He felt a hand in his hair, massaging the back of his skull in the familiar pleasant and soothing manner.

Light refused to respond. He just couldn't; his member definitely lost most of his hardness already and any erotic spell that he was under was broken.

It was just Light and L now, and the filthy act L was going to make him do.

"Come here," L ordered without ceasing his advances.

Light could still feel the offending fingers ready to open him up. He kept his head turned away from the man and just sobbed.

"Come here," L repeated.

"No."

L had a habit of sighing. The fingers were removed and Light was flipped from his side to his belly, nose touching L's. They were close, pressed up against one another and L's hot breath tickled Light's face. The boy could feel an impressive erection pressed into his thigh. It was significantly warmer, though the tears didn't stop.

"Would you willingly sleep with me?"

"No," Light whimpered, still sobbing.

"I have said I will not hurt you, I promise to make it as comfortable for you as I can, and I plan to keep my promise. What do you say to that?"

He couldn't. L was going though all this trouble...

But Light just couldn't. L was enjoying the response he was getting, loved the noises Light made, enjoyed seeing him spread out and erect... he liked seeing what he could do to Light. That's how he got off.

Light knew now, the greatest pleasure L was getting from the encounter was Light's reactions. His own _voluntary_ responses were what kept the man gentle so far. He really couldn't complain, L was careful enough with him, though this was nothing less then _rape_.

Yes, this still was _rape_, no matter if Light enjoyed it or not and no matter how tender and sweet L would ever be to him.

It was rape.

Humiliation.

Along with this came the cold realization that Light was responding to this _because_ it was rape. L had power over him, and Light realized that his arousal was caused by pure threat of the most dangerous man in the world having him, Light, and having him at his complete power and mercy.

It was danger, adrenaline. Fear. Something he'd never experienced before, something he would likely and hopefully never experience again.

Something he resented to his core, being dominated like that. He loathed it and he was aroused by it.

And still he couldn't go though this willingly.

L would just have to do it without Light's cooperation.

"And you are sure there is nothing that would convince you otherwise?"

Light shook his head again and wrapped himself into a tight ball, trying to shrink out of existence altogether.

Everything felt heavy and painful, his arms and feet would barely listen to him. He was naked and cold. His arousal was lost and his member was completely limp. It was dark; he wanted the wet and sticky blindfold off. It felt horrible.

"I see," at this Light sobbed harshly but L continued, "I am a murderer, Light. Not a rapist."

Light took a moment to think this over.

"Are you going to kill me now?"

"No."

The hardness that was pressing into his thigh was going down.

"I recognized you, Ryuzaki. I know it's you. Don't lie to me, tell me what you're gonna do to me."

"I will not kill you now Light, nor am I 'Ryuzaki'."

L put a piece of paper into his hand.

No, not money. Too small and hard.

"Of course you're not. You killed Ryuzaki Rue just like you'll kill me. I'm not a plaything in a dollhouse, stop toying with me; stop toying with everyone. Please."

"Hush now, don't talk so much," L said as he ran his hand though Light's silky hair, untangling the knots he himself made.

Light didn't have much more energy to talk anyway. L was soothing him though; the bastard had morals after all.

"My DNA is all over you, you may do anything you wish with it."

Light knew he would do _absolutely nothing_ with it.

He clutched the hard paper in his hand.

Molestation was better then rape only by so much.

Light remained in his little ball as L threw a blanket over him and left.

He dared to take the blindfold off hours later only as the sun was begging to rise.

He looked into his hand.

A plain white business card with a glittering L on one side.

_Nobody will ever know. _


	5. Protégé Moi

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I listen to Britney Spears because she's awesome and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH5**

**Protégé Moi**

Light barely registered the first ten hours of **Wednesday**.

At one in the morning, L showed up at Light's house again and while Light would rather not recall the thankfully mild details of the encounter, the man did leave a peculiar second business card with a name 'Lind L. Tailor' scribbled carelessly at the back.

Around seven AM, Light was summoned to the headquarters where he met his father, the team, a cranky Ryuzaki and crime pictures of L's newest victim Lind L. Tailor. The only crime the man seemed to be guilty of was having too many L's in his name thus displeasing the real one.

…Quite literally, as L left a note at the back of Tailor's L-card proclaiming that he didn't like Tailor's _name_.

At eight, the L Investigation Team acquired a warrant for Yotsuba's financial records as well as records of its top eight (now seven) executives.

After that, Light really wasn't sure what happened.

"To pull off something like that, it totally had to be pre-meditated for weeks," Matsuda was saying at around ten in the morning, "I mean, the fake wall was there for a few weeks, and the Yotsuba-L seems a little too professional. If you ask me, to hire that kind of guy you'd need to be waaaay at the top of Yotsuba, to have the money for that kinda hitman, I mean..."

The front door of the headquarters burst open and the first thing Light thought was that somebody was _really_ coffee-deprived because they started yelling.

And then something like a tire suddenly blew up somewhere within the room, and then another one, and Light really wasn't sure what was going on or how ten _car tires _got into the investigation quarters, or how the twenty tires with accompanying explosions that followed could fit into the quarters at all...

So Light just stood dumbly in the middle of the room, clueless and stunned.

And then Ryuzaki jumped him, and Light thought the bastard finally showed his true colors as L, and since the room was filled with loud BANG BANG BANG Light felt quite disoriented, but since Ryuzaki attacked him and was obviously going to beat him for whatever reason after he tackled Light to the ground, Light grabbed the nearest pen and stubbed Ryuzaki in the leg...

...But Ryuzaki, whatever the fuck was on his mind, or however the fuck Ryuzaki's mind could still function with _all that damn noise,_ he wouldn't bulge and Light was pinned to the ground and shoved under the nearest desk, and all he could hear was BANG and BANG and Ryuzaki had to knock over stacks of papers to actually fit under the desk with Light and then some more BANG and all Light's thoughts seemed to run in a single stream of endless unprocessed information and it really confused him...

And then he saw Matsuda, running off somewhere with a gun, how silly was that man - running around with a loaded weapon like that, and then more screaming and noise and Ryuzaki pinning him down with his entire light body, and Light trying to break free and papers flying _and then it was all over_, and Light still hadn't figured out what happened.

Someone called out, someone yelled to call for an ambulance and someone called for survivors.

Which was really odd, and Light really would go check it out if it wasn't for the soft weight of Ryuzaki pinning him to the cluttered floor.

Why was he under a desk with Ryuzaki on top of him? Yes, they were fighting because Ryuzaki attacked him, but Light realized at some point he stopped fighting back and Ryuzaki in turn held back the offence.

Which was also odd. The man shifted a little and Light gained the ability to turn his head so he cocked it to the side towards the direction of the commotion where thankfully a frame of the desk greeted him. Somewhere far off he saw people on the ground.

And then some blood.

He turned to Ryuzaki again and peered at the man's wounded thigh: mentally applauding to himself for a good stab that bled quite nicely (that L-bastard Ryuzaki, jumping him like that), Light turned to the side again...

But blood on Ryuzaki's thigh and blood over there and the people on the ground really, _really_ didn't fit together...

_What the hell..._

--

_Earlier that day..._

Light did go to school on **Tuesday**, if only to warn his professors and file an official form that he will be taking the rest of the term off for the obviously phony reason of 'vacation'.

Though he wasn't really sure what he'll be doing for the course of the next three or so university-free months, Light had the general idea: he will be brooding, sulking and walking around with sharp kitchen utensils out of pure paranoia whilst attending various therapy seminars.

He will make peace to his father, but tenaciously won't move in because whatever L had on his mind, it surely did not include a housefull of people; putting little Sayu's neck on the line was unthinkable. If it wasn't for that, being with his family would've put him at ease the supposed therapy seminars never could.

He'll borrow some money (doing that was _like so_ below Light Yagami up until that very day) and live off of that for a bit until he turned eighteen and could get a real job that did not involve nightshifts with drunken men, angry drivers and frequent robberies where the people were so insanely stupid, they sometimes forgot to take the money.

He will buy an arsenal of small stilettos and pepperspray if L's intent turned from sexual to murderous.

Yes. And he will refuse L if (when) the bastard comes again, for as long as he can, and that would be so long that L would hopefully die of blue balls by then.

_Yes. _

_L wasn't stupid enough to show up two nights in a row, was he?_

Light sure hoped not.

_Right. I'll have to google where they sell pepperspray... tomorrow._

_  
Yes, tomorrow. _

Satisfied with his plan, Light hit the pillows like a sack of potatoes fell fast-asleep.

...

He was dreaming of apples, red and powdered rosy apples when he was aroused quite pleasantly from his sleep.

"Mmm..." he murmured to the sloppy and wet kisses planting themselves on his shoulder and neck, trying to roll over from his side to his belly.

It was unusually dark as Light batted his long lashes against the cold of an open palm, trying to blink the sleep away. "Huh..." he muttered, trying to sort things in his head when another round of sweet nipping trailed along his pulse and his scalp was pleasantly massaged.

_What a wonderful thing to wake up to_, Light thought as a lazy groan left his lips and he leaned further back into the touch.

He shivered as a small wind came over the freshly-deposited saliva on his jaw-line and L's free hand traced his spine right down to the lowest vertebra possible.

Oh yes, in spite of his disoriented state at the fine border of sleep and wake, Light had a clear idea of just who would do this to him at bloody one in the morning.

And damn it all to hell if he didn't _like _it, safely with his clothes on and everything.

"Hello L," Light purred at nothing in particular seeing as his uninvited guest was directly behind him and right out of his line of sight should the hand covering his eyes ever come loose.

"On familiar terms, are we?" L's lips pressed into his ear and the boy made a tiny squeak of approval; hating to disappoint, L tentatively dipped his tongue into the hollow forcing another tiny sound to flee from Light's own lips.

"Mmm..." he purred again, trying to roll over again only to be grabbed tightly across the waist.

"Mh, lemme turn...", Light's speech part of the brain wasn't fully awake yet, just as everything else.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," L whispered against his ear again, and as if to answer Light's questioning 'mh?', "I have no blindfold," he added simply.

"Oh."

But Light was fully alert now, suddenly yanked awake by the situation, though he added another 'mhhh' to keep up the appearances as he casually stretched out, one of his hands going up to where between the headboard and the mattress, he jammed his trusty weapon...

"If you are looking for that fish knife, I have removed it for your safety. It is not wise to sleep with a potentially harmful object in your bed."

_Aw, damn it. _

L kissed his cheek and settled his wandering hand on simply resting on Light's hip.

"I will have you, but I'm afraid not tonight."

"So what do you want _now_, L?"

"Truthfully? I am afraid I do not know. Nor do I know why I am here of why I've done what I've done."

_Okay?_

"...what did you do?"

"I started something foolish."

L took Light's hand and pressed a piece of hard paper into it.

"You already gave me a card," Light stated blankly.

"Ah, but this is not_ your_ card, Light; it's somebody else's; a _piece_ of somebody else's."

Light felt his piece of paper and indeed, it was a _piece_ of a business card. A half.

"Where's the other half?"

"You will find out later today, but that is beside the point. You are to figure out a mystery, Light."

"Why?"

"For a sense of accomplishment, I suppose. So that you will know _when_."

"When what?" But L was already up and leaving and Light knew better than to turn around and peek.

"When _what_?" he whispered to an empty room half an hour later when he finally dared to move.

Half of a business card, carelessly torn away from the rest of its body. Light read the back: Lind L. Tailor.

A name? A name of a victim, perhaps. After all, L's cards were left with dead people.

Light promptly dismissed the implication of receiving one himself.

--

That day, Light was wearing that beeping fucker of a wrist-watch – the same watch that betrayed him so just a few torturously-long days ago. Why Light wore it was beyond his understanding, but it was around the time his father hesitantly handed him L's-Raid-on Kanto-Casefile that the traitorous piece of technology beeped **7AM, Wednesday**.

Ryuzaki stole some long fax paper from somewhere and was currently entertaining himself by drawing; saying Ryuzaki had no artistic talent whatsoever was an understatement though - whatever the odd man was viciously scribbling with a purple crayon, it most certainly looked mountainous and swirly.

After a few minutes of observing the man, Light figured Ryuzaki was trying to draw a _straight line_.

Wow. _It must be hard to draw when you're hovering above your drawing with your knees up like that_. The way Ryuzaki held his crayon didn't help his artistic talents either: the thing was pinched delicately between Ryuzaki's long and thin fingers (the gesture typical of him), implying that the crayon was radioactive or something.

The overall situation looked ridiculously stupid, and when Light tried to communicate this to Ryuzaki in a polite manner, he only got barked away by the irritable hermit.

Anyway.

"I have a hunch," Matsuda announced first after reading the reports twice. "It's kinda too early to tell, but it can be a pattern. Look at this: so murders occur with set days in-between them. Saturday, Sunday, Wednesday... Saturday-Sunday is 1, Sunday to Wednesday is 3. So 13?"

"What is L now, some sort of lame teenager obsessed with a stupid goth _number_?" Mogi wasn't the most patient man on the team.

But Matsuda had a point, a point Light noticed a few minutes before while Matsuda was still studying the reports.

But the difference between days wasn't all that bothered Light.

"Don't know," Light said hesitantly, "Matsuda's right though. It's not just the days. Koi Pond Murder was on Saturday 3AM; shooting was on Sunday at 10AM. 3AM plus 10AM is 13."

"But what about Mr. Tailor than, Raito-san?" Light ignored Ryuzaki's grumpy it's-too-early-to-do-anything tone.

"Lind L. Tailor was today, Wednesday at midnight, as in, Wednesday 0AM. It was like... a confirmation that 13 was made already."

Matsuda was glowing, as Light's confidence in the idea grew.

"This makes 13 in days, and 13 in times... there are really two options to consider from this point. One, if we're lucky, L made his 13, he's happy he's done here and he goes away. Two, another murder will happen, and if the pattern stays true, it will be tomorrow, making it Saturday (1) Sunday (3) Wednesday (1) Thursday."

"Worth considering," Soichiro furrowed his brows in thought. "And time-wise it will be either at 13 o'clock, as in 1PM, or at any random time before that so he can kill again three days after that to complete his 13."

"Right dad. It's impossible to make 13 after 1PM, so it will have to be either at 13th hour of tomorrow or at any random time before that, say at 3AM again, and then 10AM three days later. Really though, since it was 3 and 10 instead of 1 and 3, he really wants us to add, so it can be anything, like 5AM, and 6AM three days later..."

"If the pattern is correct," Ryuzaki added lamely.

"Right. It does seem kind of... weak," Light insulted.

"And what's the point sending us a 13?"

"Don't know. A code maybe? 13? _B_?"

"_B_?"

"Seems a little far-fetched, but maybe. B."

The five grown officers and two adolescences started at a B Light just drew out of 1 and 3 with Ryuzaki's purple crayon.

"Odd."

"Yes."

"Is L sending a message of some sort?"

"He never did anything like this before."

"Maybe he wants to play?" Aizawa spat.

_He wants to play alright. Don't you, Ryuzaki? You son of a bitch! You are playing with me personally, don't you; you want to see me figure it out again, don't you? Bastard. _

Since the death of Lind L. Tailor, it was more than obvious to Light why L was doing it, and why 'Ryuzaki' kept up this whole masquerade.

At first it was to check if Light recognized him. When Light did, L was going to kill him at a first given opportunity. But before the opportunity arose, Light did something L wasn't expecting him to do: Light was smart and he (to his dumb luck) displayed his intelligence right in front of the bastard.

In the long run, it saved Light's life, but the boy wasn't entirely sure for how long his death was going to be delayed.

At this point, L was simply nosy, bored, interested in what Light would do next.

So he threw a puzzle at him this morning, something he was curious to see Light solve. For entertainment purposes, nothing less, and both he and Light knew Light won't be able to reject the challenge.

In the time-frame given for this 'game', Light was also to find evidence and convict Ryuzaki as L, otherwise he'll be dead.

Oh so very dead indeed.

Ryuzaki snatched back his crayon.

"Raito-san is saying that 13 is B?"

"Hmm..."

There was one other thing L wanted from Light, and as he made it clear _that night_, the bastard wasn't going to just take it.

Oh no, he wasn't.

Hell no. L obviously thought himself an _icon_, someone Light was just supposed to bend over for. Bend over and beg for more, willingly.

Light figured that to L, having to _take_ sex forcefully would be insulting. Anything less than having Light spread out in front of him like a cheap whore would offend L; no, L would drive Light into willing submission.

That would be when L would finally, truly win his own little game.

This meant that the event of a day ago, and then the event of only few hours ago were going to repeat themselves, again, again, and again.

And if Light still refused, it was comforting to a degree that L won't force _into_ him, though without a doubt he would still _touch_...

"Yes, I see... B... Indeed, however Raito-san, what does B have to do with L? If L is sending us a message, however childish that may be, it should spell L, not B; B seems rather _wrong_, maybe we got the 13 _backwards_..." Ryuzaki trailed off, wistfully looking up at the popcorn ceiling.

If Ryuzaki was expecting Light to spontaneously come up with something else, he might as well get a book.

Light came up blank.

**

* * *

  
**

It was highly publicized on TV that the next day (Thursday, proving Light and Matsuda's theory correct), at 7AM sharp L has committed his fifth (fourth) murder in Kanto region of Japan.

It was also highly publicized that half of all surviving officers of yesterday's attack on the NPA headquarters resigned from the L case and went back to their respectful _general _detectively duties.

The names and photographs of the five remaining on the case detectives were also made a little too public for their comfort.

"I have a wife and two little girls," Aizawa deadpanned, muting the blabbing Demegawa from Sakura TV. "And Chief has a wife and two children, one still in primary school."

"It's okay, Shuichi," Matsuda called the troubled man by his first name, "you did the right thing, we're proud of you."

"Not a very wise decision since the attack was obviously a warning from Yotsuba. Many of your fellow men that quit had no family; I feel Aizawa-san and Yagami-san are both putting themselves as well as their loved ones under unnecessary risk."

"Ryuzaki-san, you're not helping," Light smiled at Ryuzaki icily and the awkward _injured_ man cowered away from Light and his grand writing utensil-stabbing skills.

"I am merely making it clear that everyone remaining on this investigation team has made themselves as well as their families Yotsuba's potential targets."

"We are L investigation team, for crying out loud! It's dangerous enough as it is, and really we shouldn't be the ones investigating Yotsuba at the same time! In any way, I want my son off this team, Ryuzaki-san. Immediately."

"This is the eighth time Yagami-san made such demand today."

"It's okay dad, I want to stay..."

"...as we are short on men and Raito-san has proven to be a huge help..."

"...and convict _that_ as L."

"...Raito-san is relieved of his duties," Ryuzaki scowled at Light's accusing finger pointed at his own person and rubbed the spot on his jeans where the stab-wound would be hiding under the faded blue fabric.

"No way."

"Would the two of you shut up?" growled Aizawa.

It was quite sad, really. Both Aizawa and Light's father had identical expressions on their faces: one of despair and worry. If Yotsuba wanted to scare the officers off its trail, is sure did a damn good job so far.

And if it couldn't get to the officers themselves, it would go after their families.

Light loved his mom and little sister. Though Sayu was only eight, he was sure the hitman hired by Yotsuba won't be defeated by the adorableness of the little girl alone.

He himself was unsettled, probably as much as his father even.

Ryuzaki sighed.

"I have a solution," he declared almost lazily.

The Chief inspector looked up and Light immediately didn't like the look Ryuzaki had on his face.

"More like, you have a _proposition_, Ryuzaki-san?"

"Could be that, yes. Proposition it is than. See, I am very good at hiding my own person out of harm's way. I am sure I could provide the same for your respective families until Yotsuba business is sorted out, given you yourselves stay on the team, gentlemen."

"You could hide them safely."

"That I could."

This was a deal, even Matsuda seemed to understand. Ryuzaki Rue was a shrewd businessman after all, and even if the man in front of them wasn't Ryuzaki Rue, he still had to keep up the appearances.

Meaning, he wanted a trade.

"And in return, you want...?"

Ryuzaki's face contorted into a dry and humorless up-twitch of lips; in no way did it resemble a smile and overall was quite unpleasant.

"A few things, really. I have promised you new Investigation Headquarters already, but that is weeks away from completion. You shall receive that however you may not use it in L investigation."

_...so what do you want again?_

"Instead, the investigation is to be moved to my own personal quarters; more then suitable to be temporary headquarters, I assure you. Relatively of course, that means I want to be included on every aspect of your investigation."

_A very comfortable place for you to be, I'm sure..._

Light didn't like his family under _L's_ protection, but he was sure it would be better then none. After all, even if he screamed wolf again, nobody would listen to him.

He supposed it would have to do.

"In addition to the L case," Ryuzaki continued, "I want you to investigate Yotsuba in a parallel fashion. I feel that Yotsuba has personally threatened my well-being and therefore must be dealt with appropriately. That means the Yotsuba-L and whoever employed him."

"Letting you on L team...Ryuzaki-san, even if you do get all the appropriate _legal _clearances, I don't think... and besides, both cases are too high-profile for a small team to handle-"

"I have not finished, Mogi-san. Aside from good intent, I believe every officer in this room should receive something – although three of you are not married, I am sure you have immediate relatives who may also be targeted by Yotsuba. They shall be taken care of also, all expenses including work-absences paid for."

"Of course I understand that L parallel to Yotsuba is quite heavy; the investigation of Yotsuba will be paid for as a private-detective job. Paid _heavily_, might I add."

It was obvious everyone was going to agree; though Light had a feeling Ryuzaki was going to throw in a little wrinkle, he also had a good idea what that might be.

"One last thing. Yagami Raito-san stays and helps with the investigation."

Ah, and there it was.

"What!"

"I will not have my son exposed to this! Raito goes with his mother and sister!"

"Raito will go nowhere if his mother and sister go nowhere."

Ryuzaki was not a pleasant person to deal with.

"Dad, it's really okay, I want to stay and help-"

"You are not staying; I am not putting you into anymore danger-"

"He will be a lot safer on the team then by himself."

"Unless Yotsuba decides to send a shooter with a semi-automatic to us again! A shooter, mind you, so good that we never caught him even though he walked right into police headquarters and _right out_!

"Yagami-san, think about your fellow detectives and their families before you make a rush decision."

"Chief's right! It's totally unfair to Raito-kun to make him stay!"

"Matsuda, I _want _to stay-"

"Come on, Ryuzaki-san. Think rationally, why do you want the kid here in the first place? He's smart, we'll give him that, but he's a child."

"Mogi, I-"

As if the commotion was nonexistent, Ryuzaki limped his way into the most comfortable-looking _furthest_ chair in the room, drew his knees up to his chest and coiled himself into a little ball. Guiltily keeping only his large round eyes above his knees, he comically muttered something and everyone had to go quiet to understand him.

"What was that?"

"Raito-san is a lot more interesting and pleasant to look at than five boring old farts..." came a guilty muffled reply.

Gauche silence filled the room as six pairs of outraged eyes fixed themselves on the black-haired thing-like person. Pathetically, Ryuzaki completely hid his face in his knees and covered his head with his long spidery arms.

"My son is _SO_ not staying for this investigation!"

"Dad!"

--

"So... uh, you just happen to have an over-equipped skyscraper in the middle of Tokyo at your disposal?"

It was really no wonder that shortly after the "Raito-san stays"-"no he's not" tag-o-war, the investigation team was relocating the surviving L-evidence into a forty-story building Ryuzaki labeled his 'personal quarters' where no one other than a cleaning crew seemed to live.

Of course, 'surviving evidence' was still boxes and boxes and boxes _and boxes_ of papers and computers and other crap for which Ryuzaki could really humor the team with professional movers and carts.

And of course the bastard didn't. Instead, five poor 'old farts' also known as honorable officers of law were struggling up and down elevators, and were too busy being overall entertained by the eight floors with top-notch equipment of dedicated headquarters.

And yes, _of course_ Light wasn't on any of those eight floors.

Instead of keeping to the allowed areas of the building he snuck a few floors higher to what Ryuzaki told them were strictly-restricted areas.

...of course he got caught.

And damn if it wasn't awkward.

Ryuzaki's thin and slouched person stood lonely in a doorframe though which Light tiptoed a split second ago. Darn, he was sure there was nobody there when he came through... nevertheless, caught in Ryuzaki's piercing stare, Light felt almost physically frozen in the spot.

A moment later his deer caught in headlights expression changed to 'well hallo there, can I help you!' casual look and he sure as hell hoped Ryuzaki didn't catch his momentary uncertainty. Though still quite intimidated by the stare, he tried to appear sporty and chillin'.

_It's all good, eh?_

"Uh, Ryuzaki-san?" he tried in his friendliest tones.

"I have made it clear that these floors are off-limits to the investigation team, why is Raito-san wandering the floors that are off-limits to the investigation team?" said Ryuzaki, unamused.

"I got lost," Light stated very seriously.

"Try again."

"I... uh, was looking for the bathroom?"

This was entirely stupid, and for whatever reason, Light felt comfortable doing it; besides, whatever eased that wicked stare Ryuzaki was sending him, _right?_

"No."

"No?"

"Alright, you got me. Paperwork ran away and I went looking for it."

It was awkward, really; as far as being in closed quarters and alone with Ryuzaki went, this was a first. L, sneaking into his house at night was a different experience entirely. L was there and Light could do nothing about it. L wouldn't allow Light to see his face or give any indicators that he was in fact, Ryuzaki Rue.

Though Light knew the contrary, L on the other hand preferred to regard himself and Ryuzaki Rue as two different entities.

That meant he could not confront Ryuzaki for his indecent acts upon him, and it was awkward; Ryuzaki would act like he had nothing to do with it, and it a sense, it would be just like_ telling. _

And then there was the disgusting fact that he was, in fact, standing in front of the man who forced indecent acts upon him.

It was a horrible feeling, it was.

And as ridiculous as it seemed, Light was a lot more comfortable with the character of Ryuzaki Rue than the character of L. Because he could _see_ Ryuzaki, and to the world, Ryuzaki was just another face in the crowd. He had a face. He had rules restraining him. He was real, as real as a person with a face could be.

_Damn you for confusing the fuck out of me you two-faced bastard... _

Emotionally confusing the fuck out of him, that is.

"Oh? Does this paperwork you are sneaking around my personal quarters to find look like a bloody axe or a smoking gun? Really Raito-san." Ryuzaki gave him a bored glare at which Light just smiled cheerfully.

"No-no, we ran out of business cards downstairs so I was wondering if I could borrow some of yours."

"How ill-humored."

"Indeed."

Finding nothing else to say, Light tried leaving by heading straight for the exit.

Ryuzaki, of course, didn't take the hint.

"Ryuzaki-san, I've done wrong by sneaking around and I'd like to rejoin the investigation team now," said Light, sending the best possible clue.

But Ryuzaki just stood there like a roadblock.

"Ryuzaki-san, please move so I can rejoin the investigation team."

"...would Raito-san like some tea?"

"No thank you, Ryuzaki-san. I would however, like to rejoin the investigation team.

"Tea it is, then."

Ryuzaki left the doorframe and headed further into the depths of the floor, disappearing behind some corner, leaving Light to dully stare at his dust.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Light merrily decided to ditch the bastard and went for the elevators.

"Partial reason these floors are off-limits," called Ryuzaki from somewhere not far, "is because they require a pass-key to _exit_."

...

Light glared angrily at the dial pad by the elevator.

_Damn you. _

"And would you happen to know what the pass-key is, Ryuzaki-san?" quipped Light in one of the friendly tones from his vast selection.

"I happen to know the pass-key, yes."

_And you're not gonna tell me are you?_

Light sighed in frustration.

_Tea it is, then. _

He found Ryuzaki perched up in his usual position in what appeared to be a bastard-child of a kitchen and an office, complete with couches, coffee-table and for some reason, two fridges.

The tea kettle stood on a countertop, undisturbed.

"I thought we were going to have tea, Ryuzaki-san," Light tried.

"We are."

Oh my _god_, Ryuzaki was expecting _him_ to make it.

_What the hell kind of host-skills are those?_

With a calm smile but fuming inside, Light turned on the kettle and tried looking for some cups and tea, his first logical choice being to open one of the cabinets...

_...Oh dear God._ Candy. Bags and bags of candy, soft candy, hard candy, liquorish, gummy bears, juicy drops, caramels, minties, Hershies... lollipops, cookies and jellybeans, dozens of bags were tightly packed into the cabinet, all different colors and shapes, all sugary and cavity-inducing...

Light showed a sack of marshmallows out of his way, grabbed a box of tea from the pits of the diabetes heaven and slammed the cabinet-door shut, thinking of the nightmares he'd be having for weeks to come.

_Earl Gray. _

_Will do. _

That was just one flipping cabinet.

_One. _

He'd hate the thought of what lay waiting for him in the rest of those cabinets should he be unsatisfied with his selection of tea.

Unwilling to take any risks, he politely asked Ryuzaki where he kept the cups, and encountering only a dozen or so cans of chocolate-covered almonds, he chose two large mugs over a large selection of expensive-looking china.

"Would Raito-san like some cake?"

Cake? _Cake?! _All that sugary garbage wasn't _enough_?

"No thank you," Light turned to face the wall as Ryuzaki opened up a fridge, too afraid of what he might see should he peek.

The man came back to the table with a hearty slice of lemon torte by the time the tea was done.

"Here you go."

"Thank you."

Light sipped his tea and Ryuzaki ate his dessert, in silence. Light even made to comment when the black-haired hermit shoveled something like nine spoons of sugar into his own tea.

It was so damn awkward.

Ryuzaki broke first.

"So, I hear this isn't Raito-san's first time assisting police with a case."

"No, it's not, but it was never something on... this _scale_."

"..."

"..."

Light sipped his tea quietly, thinking of how the antisocial freak really, really sucked at smalltalk.

."Ryuzaki-san?"

"Yes, Raito-san?"

"Please get to the point."

Surely there had to be one; he wouldn't be locked up on a random floor alone with the bastard if there wasn't one.

Right?

"Raito-san has stabbed me with a pen."

_This again? Please. _

"I apologized for that a dozen times already; I really thought you were trying to attack me," he said lazily.

"Raito-san is rather ungrateful," Ryuzaki pouted over the cake.

"Is this about the shooting again? I thanked you for that already, _many times_. My dad thanked you many times. Thank you Ryuzaki-san for saving my life yesterday, again."

"Ungrateful indeed. Raito-san fears guns, I assume?"

"Fear guns... everyone fears guns Ryuzaki-san, you know, they _kill people_?"

"Raito-san is afraid to die than?"

"Well, sure. Everyone's afraid to die."

_Don't provoke him Raito._

"Not all people, they rather don't want to. But you particularly seem to fear guns."

"Well, alright I do. What of it?"

"Nothing, it's just a curious fact; good to know a mare presence of a gun would disorient Raito-san in such a manner."

_For future reference? _

In the presence of the team, being around L was alright. Knowing there is an escape somewhere was also good if you were pulling his leg.

It was entirely different when you were locked in in the L-lair with L himself, and no one knew where you were.

_Don't diss the lions. _

"I see."

"..."

Light sipped his tea and Ryuzaki slurped rudely at his sugary concoction.

Disgusting.

"So... you like candy?"

"And I assume Raito-san does not?"

"How do you know?"

"Raito-san didn't put any sugar into his tea."

"Oh."

"..."

"..."

"As nice as this is, Ryuzaki-san, I have to rejoin the team right after," Light tried dropping the hint again.

"Of course."

"...right. So... is this your house? I mean, do you live on this floor? I kinda thought you'd live in the Penthouse or something."

"Raito-san and I _are_ in the Penthouse."

_Huh? _

"...no, I pressed 13th floor on the elevator."

"This building is run by a command computer and I have taken liberties to override any elevator command above floor eight to deliver the passenger straight up here."

_What?! _Light squeezed his cup so hard that any harder would crack the thick ceramic.

"You... were expecting someone?"

"I have known Raito-san would be unable to suppress his urge to _sneak_ and eventually would try something unwise."

Light's eyebrow twitched.

"So what are you hiding on those floors, Ryuzaki?"

"Oh, just things," Ryuzaki waved off the irate brunette.

"Not _dead bodies_ I hope?" Light hissed.

"_Everyone has skeletons in their closets_, Raito-san."

Instead of getting up and punching the dirty bastard square in the jaw, Light angrily sipped his tea and proceeded to glare across the table where Ryuzaki nibbled on his torte.

_Grr, I hate you!_

Finishing his tea, he slammed the cup down.

"Thank you, Ryuzaki-san. I would like to rejoin the team now, so would you please enter the pin-code so I can leave."

_There, straight to the point, Try to dodge that one you slimy git!_

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"And why I beg you _not_?"

"Because I do not wish for Raito-san to leave yet."

Light angrily popped one of Ryuzaki's jellybeans. _There bastard, I'm eating your candy. One less for you, so HA! _

Yes, Ryuzaki didn't like his candy being eaten without permission. He got up and made his way around the table.

"And why_ not_, Ryuzaki-san?" Light deadpanned coolly around his jellybean, uninitiated.

"Because I rather like Raito-san."

Light choked on the stolen candy.

"Ryuzaki-san," he tried, "if you want friends, I suggest looking elsewhere seeing as I suspect you of being a serial killer and all."

"I do not like Raito-san as a friend," and Ryuzaki grabbed him by the shoulders and went straight for his lips.

_Holy shit. _

Light just stood there, clueless and stunned just like he stood in the middle of the shootout yesterday morning.

Ryuzaki was _kissing_ him, straight on he lips and with his tongue and everything because Light left his mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Ryuzaki tasted sweet and his sly tongue whirled around his own and somewhere in the process, retrieved the stolen jellybean.

_Holy shit. _

The man slid his cold hands down his spine and drew him closer by the waist with one hand while the other shamelessly pulled up his shirt and went up his abdomen, slowly and lightly.

Light closed his eyes and the kiss shifted from his mouth to his jaw, leaving a wet trail of saliva and he just tilted his head back...

L... this was definitely L. The way he traced muscles of his chest with his sharp, icy fingers, the way he held his waist, the way he nibbled on his earlobe...

And he had no right to refuse L his ministrations because this was just like that time in his bedroom...

Oh, this was L, so truly and perfectly L...

"Hmm? Raito-san is eager and curious? Alright, but I was not expecting him to cooperate-"

Ryuzaki's deep voice ruined it all and Light's eyes snapped open as sharp awareness dawned on him. _He could hear his voice._

If L considered himself and Ryuzaki Rue two different entities, then this was Ryuzaki doing this, not L.

Not L that slipped unnoticed into his room and did sinful things to him. L had a right to do those things to him because he was _L_ and Light hardly had a choice.

This on the other hand, was Ryuzaki Rue, a bastard businessman in his fancy Penthouse.

L as Ryuzaki Rue had no right to touch him, he had no right to anything because he wasn't an illusive murderer, he was just a face in the crowd and he had a damn face, and there was no immediate veil of danger surrounding him and it was just so wrong because Ryuzaki _was a man_ for Christ's sakes...

Unaware of Light's thoughts, Ryuzaki was merrily undoing Light's belt.

_No way. _

Light grabbed the nearest pen, stabbed Ryuzaki in his uninjured thigh and ran away.

Hastily entering 1-2-3-4-5 as the pin-code miraculously worked.


	6. One Night Stand

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, 'I AM YOUR BROTHER, YOUR BEST FRIEND FOREVER, SINGING THE SONGS, THE MUSIC THAT YOU LIKE', and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH6**

**One-Night Stand**

At proper time, everyone scattered.

Light went home.

Ryuzaki sucked, so there.

He hadn't even dared to show his face after Light left him on the floor to bleed do death from a fatal pen-stabbing incident.

Fuck Ryuzaki, the last thing Light needed was a creepy _male_ girlfriend-wannabe stalking him.

Speaking of which, Light better call Misa since it was his turn to call anyway. And Takada, definitely Takada. Last thing he needed was two blood-thirsty murderers after him instead of just one.

Deciding to deal with the greater of two evils first, Light dialed the one that got released on bail two days ago.

"Hello, Kyomi-"

Yeah, that one.

"Raito? Oh Raito I didn't do it I swear to you, I didn't do it!"

Right, so pretending Light had no idea Takada killed her own girlfriend less than a week ago wasn't an option than – she probably assumed the police would have told him. Takada was a great deal smarter than Misa, or anyone else he'd ever dated for that matter.

She was still _just_ a woman though. Easy.

"Kyomi, calm down, it's alright, stop- are you crying? Don't cry, I'm sure it'll all get sorted out-"

"No it won't! It won't, you don't understand, it's all over, they think I did it but I didn't and they found me... oh, they found me with _her blood _all over me, Raito, please understand I didn't kill her!"

"Kyomi," Light said in a soothing tone using the first-name technique he developed on Misa to get attention of any hysterical woman, "the police are competent, I'm sure with a good lawyer you can prove you had nothing to do with-"

"No! No, no, no! You don't _understand_! They have proof and evidence and and... and no lawyer would take it! But I didn't do it I promise!"

By this point, Light's suspicions that Takada did in fact kill her girlfriend were cemented down. She was obviously in denial, unable to accept her own guilt despite having committed the crime.

He studied this kind of behavior in psychology and ironically, _she_ studied this kind of behavior in psychology as well, the difference was that Takada was such an emotional wreck that she simply could not apply it to herself.

Simply put, it meant that Takada's mind was dead set on the fact that _she did not kill anyone_, despite knowing for a fact that she _did_.

Poor girl, so unstable. Partially the reason Light dumped her, partially the reason the instability only worsened.

Might as well comfort her so that she doesn't go after him next.

"Kyomi! Don't be ridiculous! Calm yourself please, you're just in shock, it's all going to be fine! There are hundreds of lawyers, you just have to find the right one, they'll clear you up, I'm sure the police just screwed up-"

"Oh Raito!" Takada sobbed, "you believe me don't you? I didn't do it, please tell me you're on my side and you believe me! I didn't do it Raito, please believe me!"

Oh well, better safe than sorry.

"...Of course I believe you Kyomi, _you didn't kill anyone_; I _know_ it."

...later on, after he made a Misa-Misa call, Light was trialed and convicted of being a jealous douchebag, again.

--

Somewhere far away, Ryuga Hideki put down the Pink!GOstar Magazine.

"Um, I did what now?"

"Had a steaming hot date with Misa Amane," offered his manager.

When the moviestar made no effort to deny or recall the event, the manager/self-titled babysitter let out a heavy, hopeless sigh.

"Really Ryuga, we _have_ to get that drinking problem under control."

* * *

Light woke up on Friday in an oddly cheery mood. He managed to sleep though the night without any incidents of rude awakenings; Light got his beauty sleep, finally.

Ryuzaki was probably still pissed at him and that brought him a warm feeling just as wonderful as the bright rays of January morning sun.

This was a start of a grand day, he thought to himself in the bathroom while styling his hair.

Eighteen strokes on the left side and twenty-seven on the right with a paddle brush since the right side was always harder to manage then the left. Then carefully do the back with a sculpting brush for more volume.

There, perfect.

_Hmm. The right eyebrow is a little messy_, he thought and reached for tweezers to pluck away the _one_ offending eyebrow hair.

_Well, hello there, gorgeous! Let's find you some socks, shall we! _

His sock drawer was worthy of heaven, Light always liked to praise himself for that. The socks that made it to The Drawer had to be clean, at most a month old from the day of purchase and neatly folded and sorted by color in rows of fifteen and down ten in columns in descending shades.

In other words, The Drawer was Per-_fect _with a capital 'P'.

_Hmm, I rather feel like a creamy shade of cerulean today_, Light pulled out an odd shade of blue socks out, _it goes just dandy with my hair._

And then there was Light's amazing Dress-shirt Closet...

...L was in the room with him, lurking behind his back with just enough dexterity to disappear every time Light turned his head around. So far, within the hour that Light noticed his presence, L made no move.

Maybe he just wanted to watch Light without his clothes on.

And as long as his intentions remained relatively at bay, Light would allow the bastard the honors.

If L were suddenly to attack him, Light would go straight of his thighs where he stabbed the bastard.

This would prove L is Ryuzaki, though Light was alone and the man would probably have to kill him right away.

Thus, Light concluded, L would make no move, hostile or otherwise.

So to prove the point, he stalked around in his underwear for longer than necessary, striking less than appropriate poses that were totally uncalled for the occasion.

"_I want a hippopotamus for Christmas..._" Light hummed halfheartedly as he buttoned up his fresh shirt in an uncharacteristically slow way, "_and only a hippopotamus will do..._"

He could feel a pair of eyes burning into his behind, protected by nothing more than a thin layer of black briefs. If L had a wild imagination, which Light knew he had, those tight briefs could look like a rather attractive vision of tiny shorts. Or worse yet, L would imagine Light without those tiny shorts at all...

And even though the idea was disturbing, Light was having a party.

He knew L was _looking_, and oh did he know that _oh God,_ L wanted to _touch_.

Ha, ha, freaking ha.

According to Light's mental assessment of Ryuzaki after yesterday, he figured that a good equivalent of what he was doing right now was something among the lines of strapping the bastard to a chair and making him watch a cake being eaten right in front of his face.

_That's right, agony. _Light grinned into his sleeve, innocently swayed his half-naked behind and bent _very_ low to pick up a pen that he conveniently dropped.

"_No crocodiles or rhinoceroses_..."

He didn't have anywhere he had to be in the next four hours, seeing as he dropped collage for the remainder of the semester, and the investigation team was not expecting him until two – and it was only ten in the morning.

Hopefully L won't jump him in the next four hours because _hell_ if he would stop.

No, Light was enjoying this a little too much for his own safety.

"_I only like_-"

_Did he just stroke my ass?!_

Light spun around, probably messing up his perfect hair in with the little whirlwind he created, but just like before an empty room greeted his sight.

_Bastard. _

The room was empty, L hid or ran away or something.

Or maybe Light was just paranoid because he had no idea where a human man could possibly hide in his tiny bedroom and be completely invisible.

And maybe he was putting on this whole show for no other audience than his horny furniture?

He felt a little stupid, but quickly waved it off.

Light Yagami was never wrong.

L was here. L was watching him, and L could not touch him because he was injured, and it would prove that L is Ryuzaki Rue.

Ha.

"_I only like hippopotamuses_..."

Jeans had to go on, so to finish the show with a BANG Light bent very low again and carefully stepped into a pant-leg.

"_And hippopotamuses like me toooo!"_

"**I will show Raito-kun hippopotamus!"**

_Wh-_

It took less than a second, but _L_ threw him on the bed and pinned him down, face _up_.

_Fucking hell!_

_No blindfold or anything! _

"RYUZAKI!"

"Raito-kun!"

"FUCKING SON OF A BITCH RYUZAKI YOU LET ME GO YOU GODDAMN BASTARD, _YOU'RE L, I FUCKING KNEW IT!_ LET ME GE BEFORE I-"

"Raito-kun needs to shut up! These walls are thin; he must not disturb the neighbors!!"

"NEIGHBOURS, L?! I'LL SHOW YOU FUCKING NEIGHBORS, LET THEM COME RUNNING HERE, CALL POLICE AND ARREST YOU, YOU FUCKING MURDURER!"

"I don't know what Raito-kun is talking about. I am not L." said Ryuzaki with a straight face, "now please stop screaming so I can kiss you."

"Not L? NOT L?! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS! YOU BREAK INTO MY HOUSE AGAIN AND SAY YOU'RE NOT L?! HOW DARE YOU-"

"Breaking into Raito-kun's house does not make me L."

And Light just stared up into Ryuzaki's black eyes.

Dear sweet pie, he was _serious_!

This... this was ridiculous.

And yet Ryuzaki had a point. Breaking into Light's house did not in fact make him L. It just made him a trespasser.

Light did feel a little stupid after all.

"Mmph! What the hell, don't kiss me!" He spat, trying to wrestle a hand free to wipe his mouth where Ryuzaki just planted a sloppy, wet kiss.

"But Raito-kun is not attacking my eardrums anymore so I must seize the opportunity and kiss him."

"Mhhh mm!!"

"Oww!"

Light spat the blood that came from Ryuzaki's lip to the side and stared angrily at the cringing hermit. If the situation permitted, he'd feel sorry for him because he could see tears forming in Ryuzaki's eyes - this grown man with disgusting personal hygiene and eating habits (who was also a serial killer) possessed the ability to be adorable at the least appropriate moments.

But to hell with that.

"Light-kun is dominatrix," Ryuzaki whined, nursing his injured lip.

"Wha-"

"He may not deny it! He stabbed me twice yesterday and bit me just now! He is very cruel. I am afraid I'm not quite into that kind of thing."

"Fuck you. Get out."

"I am really not into that kind of thing, Raito-kun."

Wait a minute...

"Are you trying to convince me that stabbing you in the leg and running away is some kind of _mating invitation_?!"

"Is it not?"

_Oh, I'm not playing this. _

"Just get out."

"No."

"Let me go and get out or I'll kick you, and I feel rather kicking you a little higher then your thighs!"

Ryuzaki's expression soured.

"Now Raito-kun is threatening my superior genitals; what kind of absurd foreplay is this?"

Light just stared.

"Out."

"Is this the safety word?"

"Out!"

"Ah, I see! Bondage sex, correct?"

"OUT!"

This was not getting anywhere.

But than again, Light never found himself in a situation as stupid and downright bizarre as this one, so he was probably not handling it right. He was angry, outraged, and maybe just a little more aroused than he would admit, but yelling and ordering was not the way to go about this.

He had to be rational, because the idiocy of this knocked his rationale out of him just like Ryuzaki knocked the air out of him when he tossed him onto his own bed.

With a deep sigh, he evened out his expression as much as he could.

"Ryuzaki-san."

"Raito-kun."

"Okay, first of all I don't remember giving you permission to address me with –kun."

"Is Raito-kun hinting that I should drop the honorific altogether?"

"Ryuzaki-san, I am serious. Stop this... idiocy."

"..."

"Right, now I don't appreciate you addressing me on such familiar terms. I am not your friend or... I'm not your friend."

"I hold a strong argument here, actually, Raito-_kun_. I am older than you by quite a bit, so I do reserve the right of addressing you with less respect. Considering how long it took you to win the 'Yagami Raito-san' argument, this one is pointless. I will refer to Raito-kun as Raito-kun from now on, and that is not his decision."

"Fine I will deal with that, now, about you kindly getting your ass out of here..."

Despite the more serious tone of the conversation, Ryuzaki was still atop of Light, with his hands firmly pinning Light into the mattress, and an offensive knee planted between his thighs, lingering less then an inch of making contact with a much desired area. His face was hovering over Light's in proximity so close, he could smell Ryuzaki's breakfast cherry pastry and see tiny beads of sweat gathering under the jet-black hair on his temples.

He was very close, and despite everything, Light never really denied attraction to this... vermin. If beauty was in the eye of a holder, than Ryuzaki Rue was the most exotic thing he'd ever seen.

Just that, as a man... eww.

No, Light thought of experimenting, really, he had for quite some time now.

It would be... interesting to experience, in a way.

Sure he'd do it.

In ten years.

And not when his life was at stake.

Oh, right.

His life was at stake.

He totally forgot.

_Damn you, Ryuzaki Rue. _

"...but I do not wish to leave."

"Yes, but this is my house, and my _body_."

"Please?"

"Ryuzaki-san! Stay serious!" Light resisted the urge to reach out and smack the idiot at the back of the head, and then he remembered that his movements were restricted, and _then_ he remembered the immediate danger of this _stupid_ man, again.

It was less then a second – a moment of distraction, any distraction, and he forgot Ryuzaki was L, again, the single most dangerous criminal mind on the entire world. How the hell...?

_No Raito, focus. _

"If you don't want to leave, let me go and let's talk this over," deadpanned Light.

"Raito-kun means compromise, yes?"

"_Raito-kun_ means 'listing twenty good reasons why he won't bend over'! Now let me go!"

To Light's surprise, the odd man complied with a cute pout and rolled to the side of the bed.

_FOCUS DAMN YOU! _

"Thank you, now I want you out of my house."

Instead, Ryuzaki snaked a hand around Light's waist and pulled the boy towards himself in a very hermit-like fashion. If such fashion existed, of course.

"I don't want to cuddle, Ryuzaki-san," Light said coolly and pushed at the man's chest to pull away, "I want you gone. I want your stupid advances to stop. I don't like you. Go away."

Ryuzaki yanked this time and Light ended up on top of _him_, and then he put both hands on his hips to steady the boy and when Light tried to get off, he just pulled him down like Light had no weight to him at all.

"Stay. You wanted to talk, I also want to talk," he said with a blank face, "seriously, I promise."

"We can talk in the kitchen where there are _chairs_... and tea?" He tried again with enough effort to indicate that he wanted off, but less than needed to initiate a physical fight to which Ryuzaki would surely respond with force as well.

He gave up after he was yanked down for the third time.

"Stay there."

Light blew an angry puff of air at his bangs.

"What?"

"I like you."

"I can see that. I don't like _you, _as you might've probably noticed."

"Yes, that seems to be the problem."

"Ryuzaki-san, look," Light started, "I'm seventeen. That's not even legal age for me to have sex with other men. As you said, you're much older than me. I'm a broke collage student. You're a billionaire. I'm into girls and tennis, you're into me and killing people. I like mashed potatoes and you like éclairs. Seriously?"

"That does not change the fact that Raito-kun's intelligence may only be rivaled by his own beauty."

"That's it?"

"That, and," Ryuzaki added grudgingly, "I also really want to get laid sometime during my visit to Japan."

"Hire a whore."

"Hnn."

"What?"

"I would be disappointed with anyone other than you."

"Well, that's just not going to happen, now do get out before I call police."

"Ah, but I can bribe them away!"

"Not if the responding officer happens to be my father, and I will inform you that he will be carrying an axe."

It was a stupid not-even-joke, his father was not a street cop and an axe did not fit into the police weaponry code, but Ryuzaki's lips twitched upward, and before he could help himself, Light grinned too.

"Will he tie my mutilated body to a tower to show example of what happens to any man who dares to approach his beautiful son?"

"Probably."

Ryuzaki's lips stretched into a full-blown smile and Light started laughing, and Ryuzaki joined him, and then they both were laughing like tots would laugh while eating sand from a sandbox. It was stupid and it released tension, and Light forgot again that he was dealing with a very dangerous person.

He did like stupid Ryuzaki after all.

--

They had tea and Ryuzaki left shortly after.

But Light was alone now, his logic came back and he realized that he actually offered tea to _L_, and had a nice conversation about tennis with him in the kitchen, and said 'I'll see you in HQ in a few hours'.

After all the man had done to him, Light told him about a bakery down the street and sweetly waved him goodbye.

Ryuzaki, L, whoever... they were dangerous. Dangerous for his mind. Light trusted him.

After the son of a bitch molested him, twice, threatened to kill him with an L card, lied, attacked him in his own bedroom, Light _trusted_ him.

No, this was not right.

Light could manipulate people, but not to this extant. This was... what Ryuzaki, no what L could do to him...

He had to think, and thinking, at this point of his life, became unpleasant.

L, or L's alias, Ryuzaki Rue, were going to kill him, no matter how nice he seemed.

It did not matter when or where or how. Light would not be allowed to live; they were still playing the game... and the game was played under a set of rules that weren't his, rules he didn't know about, rules his opponent was in direct charge of changing anytime he so wished.

And L was winning.

No, the only possible outcome of this was for Light to lose, and L to win.

His father couldn't help him.

The police couldn't help him.

No one could.

The only way left was for Light Yagami to help himself.

_And there really is only one way._

One way.

Light had a vague idea, one he refused to develop any further, a plan, a plot per se, one that will allow him to live a full, _clean_ life whilst eliminating L out of his life once and for all.

He, Light Yagami, with all his manipulative qualities, at young age of seventeen, had all proper equipment to take his talents to a greater extent.

He also knew he would never ever even _dare_. He believed in justice, fairness and fair game – and he liked L. He wouldn't dare to even allow the development of this... rough idea he had.

But if he were to continue playing just and fair, he would surely die.

The pure nature of Light Yagami's beliefs would allow him to die.

But Light himself would not.

He would live.

And to live meant doing something that would destroy his beliefs, and a man without beliefs was as good as dead anyway.

The only way to truly live was to twist but preserve those beliefs, break all bonds that joined the entity of Light and Yagami Light, the ties that held him together as a person, and re-attach them to where they would not fit.

He had to change.

Light Yagami as he was, had to die. In order to survive severing the extent of his mind, he simply had to not exist as Yagami Light anymore.

Something had to trigger this; something had to destroy him inside.

It was the only way for him to change enough to take drastic measures to preserve his own precious life. It was his only chance.

The only one.

And then, Light suddenly_ knew_.

And the knowledge bolted down his spine, spread though his veins and tickled his fingertips with its icy sensation.

The fear that this knowledge brought was overwhelming.

It had do be done.

Yagami Light loved himself.

And with love, he would have to kill Yagami Light.

Chop off the tree with all its branches and leaves and flowers, saver it completely at the trunk near the roots, raze it.

And then nurture the poisonous yellow flowers that will take root in the dead core of what once used to be Yagami Light.

Dizzy and numb, Light started towards Ryuzaki Rue's L Investigation quarters.

* * *

Jamming a determined finger into a random number higher then eight on the elevator of the HQ was a failsafe way to go directly to Ryuzaki's penthouse.

On even feet, Light made his way to the spacious waiting room furnished in white and cream tones.

Founding a suitable one, he lowered himself at edge of a sofa with his back painfully arched and every muscle contracted and tense, as if instead of a plush piece of furniture, he sat on a furnace.

No one said he would do this with his nose high. He was anxious.

Nervously, Light eyed the four surveillance cameras positioned in corers of the room. Surely, there was more. Ryuzaki was alerted of his presence when he entered the floor. He could spy on him though cameras.

_Come out, Ryuzaki._

"Raito-kun is early; he said he'll be here in a few hours. I'm afraid the team is not here yet."

_Alright, let's get this over with. _

"I changed my mind."

"About what, Raito-kun? Andrew Murray is the best British tennis player of all time, yes? I am glad you have come to your senses."

"No, not that. I mean, let's do it."

"Excuse me?"

"I said let's do it. Where's the bed? Let's go."

"Is Raito-kun joking?"

"No."

"...has Raito-kun gone mad?"

"Ryuzaki, please. Before I change my mind."

"...understood. Follow me, please."

The first thing Light did when he entered a large bedroom that looked completely un-slept in, was plop himself on the bed and look uncomfortably the side, suddenly finding the white fabric of the blanket a lot more interesting than the slouched form in the doorframe.

"Raito-kun, this is rather awkward, is this-"

"It's not. Whatever you think it's other than what I said it is, it's not."

"Raito-kun is not making sense," he heard a smirk from the door.

"Well, 'Raito-kun' is nervous as hell so if 'Ryuzaki-san' kindly gets over here sometime this week, it'll be nice, yeah."

"Hmm."

Though Light continued to intently fiddle with the corner of the sheets, he was aware of every sound of the room – from the quiet drone of the air-conditioner, to tiny cracks the furniture made, to quiet shuffling noises Ryuzaki made as the older - man – approached Light across the room.

His back ached from the stiff pose he took on the bed: propped up to make himself appear more comfortable and sure to anyone who might look; in truth his elbows quivered as they were the only support to the unevenly distributed weight of his body. Even the short breaths he took were uncomfortable: small, giving his virtually no oxygen, as quiet as if he never took them at all, with long intervals between each one: regulated, aware, each inhale thought of rather then regular automatic breathing he took for granted.

The mattress beside him dipped signaling that, well, it was on.

"You look very uncomfortable," came from the other side.

"Yeah, well you're about to fix that."

"I don't suppose I will hear the story behind this sudden change of heart?" Ryuzaki's cold fingers tucked a stray lock behind his ear, but Light still refused to turn around.

"Who cares, you're still gonna take advantage of it."

"If Raito-kun is-"

"Would you shut up? Fucking hell Ryuzaki! Work your magic, make me comfortable, do whatever the fuck you were doing back in my house – got me fucking going, but just fuck me before I storm out of here or the taskforce comes in!"

"Hmm."

The outburst – that by the way made Light feel no better, did nothing to make him turn around either, so Ryuzaki, the cunning bastard that he was, grabbed his shoul-

_Oh. _

The cold fingers of the hand that wasn't cautiously squeezing his shoulder managed to slip under both his jacket and shirt and trace icy circles on his aching lower back.

It was nothing, barely anything, but with the tension and anxiety Light was feeling, this felt like definitely something rather than nothing.

And his back hurt. Should he maybe lie down completely?

No, Ryuzaki's hand was on his back, that'll stop whatever he was going.

But than why was he afraid to do something Ryuzaki didn't like?

Well... it was him, Light, requesting sex, and not Ryuzaki, which was different from this morning...

And if Ryuzaki was L...

"Shh. You're thinking too much," ends of Ryuzaki's silky hair brushed his face and the tiny wind the words created made him shiver...

The pressure on his arms was almost painful as well - he was still supporting his entire weight on nothing but two points of gravity in a very awkward position... so...

Maybe he should finally turn around?

"Still thinking," a chuckle this time, and he was lifted a little and the stress to his arms and back was immediately gone, and then slowly lowered completely into the mattress. Ryuzaki hopped on top of him, and though Light was expecting him to look like a hunter down at his pray, the odd man looked nothing of sorts.

In fact, he looked like he normally would... that was until Light locked his own eyes with Ryuzaki.

Not large black pits of nothingness. No, still black pits of nothingness, but narrowed, half-lidded, serious... He'd seen those eyes before.

Ryuzaki tilted his head and gave Light a measuring look, before lowering himself to make contact with Light's body. It was cold – even his clothes were cold, and because Light's body temperature was normal, the sudden icy contact made him shiver, squint a little and shrink as far into the mattress as the piece of furniture allowed.

Noticing but not quite acknowledging this, Ryuzaki traced a thumb over his cheek and though that was cold too, Light leaned in like he was supposed to.

Nudging Ryuzaki to hurry up was not a good idea; there was nothing to hurry because neighed of them were really aroused, and Ryuzaki was savoring victory after all, so...

A few minutes went by and Ryuzaki just lying atop of him, stroking his cheeks, "still thinking too much," the man _whispered_ and oh did that made Light shiver in something similar to... delight? No, that couldn't be it.

"You're very beautiful, you know, Raito Yagami," Ryuzaki moved his thumb from his check to his lips, "A gorgeous," down to his chin, "intelligent," along his Adam's apple, "bastard," back up and tipped his chin up to expose his throat to an assault that came immediately.

Ryuzaki's lips were warm and quite pleasant; he nibbled rather than kissed and licked rather than bit, and Light kept his chin up to allow whatever came.

He wasn't sure when it got there, but Ryuzaki's hand was slowly crawling up his belly, and when that sweet mouth made its way to his earlobe, Light went for his own buttons.

"None of that," Ryuzaki retracted and took his hand and kissed the open palm, "just lay back and relax."

_Trust you? _

An invasive knee ledged itself between his legs second time that day, and Ryuzaki leaned back down to plant tiny kisses on his lips, lick, ask permission to enter... Light gave, and that sweet taste of some kind of pie this time invaded his mouth. A sly tongue twirled with his own, and Light was a damn good kisser, so why not?

_Yeah, I'll trust you. _

Two icy digits pinched his nipple lightly and Light opened wider, and that damn knee was now rubbing against him and he was finally starting to get hard.

When the first tiny moan left his throat, Ryuzaki started undressing him – first went the jacket, then went the shirt, and then Ryuzaki's mouth was all over his chest and Light had to hold himself back when his nipple was nudged, kissed suddenly bitten hard and nursed with soft licking.

The bastard still had his clothes on though, and made no indication he'd lose his pants anytime soon. Oh well, the better; at least Light wouldn't be required to do something humiliating.

But it was kind of humiliating to just lie there and let Ryuzaki do whatever the hell he wanted to do to him, too. He stiffened uncomfortably at the realization but then Ryuzaki reminded him that he was again thinking, and tossed away Light's pants and underwear.

Now it was cold, and Light's cheeks flushed when one of those cold fingers carelessly traced down his shaft. Ryuzaki grinned wildly at that.

That basta-

"AH!" _Shit. _Light's breath hitched.

A nail. That motherfucker dug his motherfucking nail into the slit, just like that goddamn it, he wasn't even completely erect or anything, and that hurt a little!

"Hey- where you going?" He asked instead when Ryuzaki was no-longer hovering over him.

"Hmm..."

"_Oh."_

That tongue... that warm, sweet delicious tongue was... _oh why are you doing this to me?_ was licking at the tip, swirling along the assaulted head, and then retracting to make way for the delicious sensation of Ryuzaki's lips tracing the underside... _Oh, oh damn..._ his member stood up proudly and he threw his head back.

Cold fingers – still cold, were carefully massaging his sack in the most wonderful and pleasant manner while Ryuzaki was licking – no, not taking in completely – at the base.

It was... damn it was good, it wouldn't be long...

"You-" Light managed half-gaping half shy to spit it out, "you have to... you know... 'cause I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"I said hush, yes?"

Despite the comment, Ryuzaki did retract his mouth, leaving the work to his hand – which was still quite satisfying.

"Suck," he ordered, pressing two cold digits to his mouth. Light obediently took them in and rather then letting them out spit-covered right away, he took the hand into his own and massaged each one with his tongue before allowing them out and taking in Ryuzaki's mouth instead.

"Legs," came another order and Light bent his knees and spread out, though he did tense up when he felt a now-wet finger touching him _there_...

Ryuzaki kissed him hard and pumped him harder still, and though it was no distraction, it was still wonderfully good... and then it went in.

And it was okay, and it drew out and went in again, and again to the rhythm of what Ryuzaki was doing with his other hand a few inches above, and then another one joined it, and there were two fingers inside of him, just pulling in and out at first and then scissoring, stretching...

Stretching, oh that hurt a little, but Ryuzaki was taking his time and stretching even wider, so Light barely felt against he dull pain of stretching that another finger just went in, except for maybe the cold because his body heat did warm up the other two while they were in there, inside of him, opening him...

It was burning inside a little now; Light assumed Ryuzaki accidentally tore something despite his efforts not to, though that was no surprise...

"Mmm..." He finally let his hands free from whatever restrains he put upon himself and held at Ryuzaki, one hand tangling in the surprisingly soft mass of black hair. It was still okay.

"That will do..." It was the first time that night the aggressor, should he say, of the intercourse was showing signs that he was aroused as well. All activity in his lower regions was withdrawn, and the older, now suddenly very attractive Ryuzaki went to unzip his own pants.

Damn it, Light should've noticed that unmissable bulge and done something about it earlier... ah well, he propped himself up and helped him out of his pants and blue boxers.

Ryuzaki was slightly larger then him, but Light only knew this because he spent endless hours naked in front of the mirror admiring himself. There was barely a difference in size, really.

But now that he thought about it...

Gulping slightly, he lowered himself back into the pillows and tried to relax, because hell that would hurt.

Ryuzaki kissed him on the lips and reached out for what appeared to be Vaseline in the bedside table, and Light watched him as he coated that slightly-larger-than-his-own member with the lubricant.

"Alright, hang on to me," it was a grunt, and indication that the older man had to get some or he'll kill a small kitten.

Hah, way to ruin the mood.

Ryuzaki had a point when he forbid him thinking.

Though Light still did as he was told and grabbed on to Ryuzaki's bony shoulders. His body-heat seemed to have risen and when their naked chests pressed together, Light felt his recently neglected member give a small jerk and despite the fear he wanted Ryuzaki to hurry up.

And yes, he felt that thing against his entrance and he tried to relax his behind as much as possible. Ryuzaki knew what he was doing; he lifted his upper body a little and pulled his cheeks out of the way before ordering Light to hook his leg over his shoulder.

"What is there to hoc- _Fuck!"_

Ryuzaki moved, moved in, all the way, not slowly to let him catch his breath, but all the fucking way in, painfully, despite the lubrication Light felt like he was torn apart form inside, it hurt, it fucking hurt and unconsciously he pushed against it to somehow get it out...

"Hush," Ryuzaki cooed, stroking his hair and nipping at his clenched lips, "shh, it's alright, relax, let it go..." his breath was shaking, it probably was pretty bad for him too when Light clamped on him like that and he couldn't morally move before Light let go, but to hell with that, it fucking hurt.

The stroking on his member returned and he left a little calmer and let go. Ryuzaki moved, slowly, giving him few experimental slow thrusts and when that did nothing, Light just barked at him to just go on.

"Nnn!" was the sound of his prostate being finally hit, and then again, and many times again, and before they knew it, Ryuzaki was slamming into him and Light was screaming profanities.

It was just sex.

Awkward sex.

--

Light lay there with his eyes closed loosely gripping at the pillow. His breath was even and the afterglow long wore off.

He just lay there.

Ryuzaki was behind him, probably still in the pleasant haze of after-sex – or just too lazy to move.

It didn't matter. In around an hour or so, Light would have to get up and go downstairs to the investigation quarters and pretend that he just arrived – pretend that nothing happened.

And he could do that.

He'll smile politely and act – act just like he used to. But he felt different.

Today, L, Ryuzaki Rue, or whoever the hell he was, broke something in Light.

Broke it.

And it hurt and nagged like a hemorrhaging wound at the back of his mind. It felt fine as it went on and humiliating seconds after it happened, after realization of what L did to him, after the humiliation as a human being downed him, and would not leave him at peace, ever. There was no way to make it better.

_I hate you, L. _

_You aren't a person, you are a monster. You are evil. _

_Evil like you doesn't deserve justice._

_I hate you._

_You won't be able to hurt me ever again because..._

_I will kill you._


	7. Two Night Stand

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I love pie, jam, my shiny new beta and brownies and I do not own Death Note._

_**Sango-maru**__, my shiny beta for this chapter, says hi. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH7**

**Two-Night Stand**

_**I am Kira.**_

_**I am not an entity, I am justice, and I am God. **_

_**It is time the evils of the world were judged. The world before me is rotten by sin, greed and sloth, and the very people who vowed to protect you from this evil, fail all of you every day as they put on their uniforms and march the streets. **_

_**Police is no-longer competent; judgment day is upon you sinners, for a world with you is not the world I want for my people.**_

_**Criminals are evil and will be judged. Corrupt politicians are evil and will be judged. The wealthy whose wealth came at others' expanse are evil and will be judged.**_

_**L, your evil walks my world: you are not welcome. Kira will judge you above others.**_

Ah, thank you Takada. The things that woman could do under a lot of stress and little guidance.

A little overly dramatic though.

Smiling on the inside, Light watched his father in growing concern. The old officer was rubbing his temples and a few more wrinkles appeared on his face - this was not the first time the police have viewed this tape, but this was the first time Light saw it off-paper that he gave Takada and then ordered to destroy... though she kind of edited it, the message was still there.

"So..." he decided to break the thick silence, "I assume Ryuzaki is hiding?"

"Like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs," Matsuda said a little too cheerfully for the situation, "hid in that penthouse of his... _ran_ up there, actually."

"So Matsuda-san," Light pitched diplomatically smirking like an idiot, "what do you figure got him so scared: the threat to the wealthy or the threat to L?"

"Raito, this is not time for this," the chief failed to share Light's amusement.

"Sir, I think we should leave it to the police," said Mogi who was as aggravated as the chief, "Right now, we are only L investigation team. This... 'Kira', should be no concern of ours. For all we know, he's bluffing, all we have is a tape delivered to Demegawa to Sakura TV, a dead body of a night guard and two dead rapists released on bail. Heart attacks probably poison. _Of course _Demegawa felt _so_ threatened he just had to show it. That cheap bastard. Anything juicy and he'll air it. All it did was cause mass-panic."

"Mass panic of ex-cons and white-collars, and a ton of approval. Sakura TV's being picketed," said Aizawa reading a fax that just came in.

"I agree with Mogi, dad," Light out on a thoughtful expression, "leave it to police. Kira's probably just trying to cause mass panic and rob a bank while police are busy, that's all. Not our department at the moment."

"Yeah, Chief. I think we should go on something that we actually have evidence to, and after swiping the place like ten times, it looks like Yotsuba-L did leave some evidence. It'll be delivered to us this afternoon; I just got an e-mail..."

"…fax, e-mail..." grumbled Soichiro eyeing Aizawa's fax paper and Matsuda's concentrated internet-surfing, "what happened to a simple phone-call?"

"It comes with age, dad," Light cheered his father half-jokingly, "I think we can get clearance for the telegraph tower if you're that uncomfortable though."

The chief let out a small chuckle and for a brief moment the deep lines on his face smoothed out and his eyes regained the gleam Light was used to seeing so often before he messed up and ended up renting a studio with a hotplate and a beer-cooler for appliances.

"Raito, can I have a word with you?"

"Sure, Dad," he said, and followed Soichiro out of the main office to a more private hallway.

"Raito..." the chief began, "first of all how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine dad, is that it? I really thought it was something big," he scratched the back of his head with a plastic smile.

"Don't do this now Raito, I am your father I can tell when you lie most of the time. You are not fine, far from it."

"I can hold my own, dad, if that's why you're worried. I can work this, I'm really okay."

"There is something you're not telling me. What happened yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" _Nothing happened at all._

"Yesterday, you came in an hour early and you were distracted."

"Oh that? Nothing, I was just distracted."

"By what?"

Light was quickly losing his patience. Yesterday was not something he wanted to think about, let along discuss with his _father _of all people.

"Just distracted, Dad. By L. By police. By people being killed left and right."

Still unsatisfied with the answer, Soichiro paused and Light had to take deep breaths to stay calm.

"I can tell when the investigation is bothering you, and it is bothering you. What this is, is something entirely different."

"What are you getting at, dad?" Light hissed.

"You were avoiding Ryuzaki yesterday."

"So what?"

"Has he-"

"Dad!"

"Raito, listen! He... he worries me. I don't think he's L, but he is still a dangerous man. Whatever he told you, stay away from him."

"Dad, I don't need to hear this."

"Look. I-I'm just trying to be a good father. I missed a big chunk on your life and- and I rejected you when you needed me, and I'm a horrible parent, your mother made sure I realized that. I'm sorry Raito. I am your father; if Ryuzaki threatened you or anything like that you can tell me; I can help."

Light did a double-take.

His father was a very stubborn, unreasonable man when he wanted to be.

Right now though, he was giving in.

Light couldn't really believe it... well, he also wanted to give his father a hug, but instead he cleared his throat and offered his hand in a business-like manner.

"So... this is truce than?"

"Truce."

They shook on it.

"I'm sorry dad."

"I'm sorry too Raito."

Light stared at his shoes.

"So the girls are gone for this 'vacation' Ryuzaki offered, and I thought maybe we could have some father-son time?"

Light smiled.

"That'd be nice."

"Bowling? You know I'm too old for tennis."

"Bowling it is."

"Oh, and Raito?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"...I told you so, with Misa."

"Dad!"

---

It was Saturday morning, and normally in the police line of work, nothing much happened on a Saturday. A bunch of escorts and drunken people usually got busted, on occasion somebody would whack somebody else with a beer bottle, and sometimes some poor thing would file rape charges, sometimes whatever was left of yakuza were up to no good.

But usually, when it came to something major, the mass-murderers and other big people who decided to do something big did their deed on a business day, kind of like shopping on e-bay.

What was up with these kids this particular week, Matsuda didn't get.

First, there was the thing with Light and L, exactly a week ago.

L was what Matsuda considered L a big person. And L decided to practice his butchery skills on a very early Saturday morning.

And that was lame, because _everybody_ knew Saturday was a lazy day for both mass-murderers and the police.

And then there was this Saturday.

This Kira person. Kira - though it definitely came from the English word, 'Killer' and totally didn't fit a self-proclaimed god - did sound like a girl's name a lot. 'Kira' fit a very cute Lolita j-rocker with a guitar and pig-tails just fine.

Too bad s/he decided to go around killing people like that.

Heart attacks were cool though.

Oh look, another e-mail.

Matsuda poked around the desktop for a few seconds, boredly one-clicking on random icons just to see them light up, and then figured he'll look at the e-mail first, though it was technically Mogi's job _and_ computer.

From... NPA.

RE: Yotsuba

Click.

Report! _Mine!_

He'll show it to the team in a second; he'll just have the satisfaction of looking at it first. No harm in that, right? _Download PDF of the briefing report._

_Dum de dum_... Coffee would be nice now, _hmm I like coffee..._

Hey, what, whoa hold on, what the hell-

"Mogi! Guys, anyone, what's it doing??! What's it doing??! I didn't do anything!"

"Matsuda what- shit, what did you do, how long's it been doing that?!"

"Like ten seconds! I didn't do anything; I just downloaded a PDF from an e-mail, that's it!"

"On a service computer?!" Various buttons and running random programs didn't help the poor enslaved computer and the freshly opened antivirus froze and collapsed right away.

"It was from NPA...!"

"God damn it, Matsuda!"

"What's going on?"

"A virus, kill it, kill it!"

"But the antivirus and firewalls are all state of the art; this is government technology, no virus-"

"Shit, shit!" yelled Mogi, giving up on the buttons and diving under the terminal to rip out the wireless Ethernet adapter. Everyone held their breaths and the PC gave small 'offline' icon, deleted a bunch of files on its own until the antivirus finally kicked in. The computer worked for a few more seconds, gave a defeated beep, and the all-dooming blue screen lit up the monitor.

"Jesus," swore the Chief.

_Drama! _

"But I just downloaded a PDF of the Yotsuba report...!" Drama, drama! "Shouldn't that thing be like bulletproof? A virus can't just do stuff to it, we got like the best software on it!"

"Wasn't a virus, was a straight hack; the most common, low-life way of doing it actually. No one who'd go after a government computer would use the sendmail debug in their right mind..."

_More drama!_

Why didn't Matsuda just take the job of a soap-opera screener? Same freakin' amount of drama that would be, less life-threatening, maybe?

"This wasn't any low-life, was it than?"

"Probably not. The effort it'd take to do it that way... damn it, the guy's good."

"Did they get what they want?"

"I don't know." The computer restarted, but it was taking its time.

"What _did _they want?"

"We'll find out when I get this thing started. Damn it, should've went with a Mac..."

_Drama._

---

_Well, shit. _

Rather than _how_ they did it, Light's mind was buzzing around what exactly they wanted.

A hacking attack of an apparently very professional level, just to get to a common NPA computer that wasn't used for much other than case data, reports and e-mails would seem useless. If they wanted a report or an e-mail address, they'd be better off just camping under any NPA office, catching their internet, and, well... No, whatever it was, they needed this specific computer.

What was on it?

_Case data, reports and e-mails_.

Just as it would be on anybody else's terminal. Because of security measures, this particular computer (because it was away from the workstation at the actual NPA and rather at the unknown territory of Ryuzaki Rue's castle) had even less case data.

Just the L case data.

Again, everything they knew, every other NPA computer had. Hell, that L case even had its own international server, just hack that if you want L, have fun with that two-hundred page essay fax while you're at it.

So this terminal had something others did not. And again, anything important that it might have would be _case_ _data, reports and e-mails_.

That wasn't getting anywhere. Light sighed. Where the hell was Ryuzaki with one of his grand hints to the meaning of life?

The computer was still starting up. It's been a minute since...

Why did this hacker throw a virus when he left? Why did the computer restart?

Normally, it would just crash and die or the antivirus would deal with it, and it'd be like nothing happened.

Which didn't. It just froze and had to be restarted.

...to _stall._

"Come on..." groaned Mogi. His father looked like he had no idea what was going on, Matsuda looked ready to cry and Ide wasn't there.

"They wanted maps."

"What?"

"The blueprint of this building - the one we needed from Ryuzaki upon NPA's request. The one we haven't sent to NPA in a report yet. This building."

"A blueprint of this building? What the hell for? Now? They could've just gotten it from NPA when we sent it, be a hell-lot easier!"

"They wanted it now," Light's heard his own voice die a little.

Mogi's hand darted towards his belt where his trusty gun was strapped securely. His father did the same and Matsuda followed suit, though he probably had no idea what was going on. Ide still wasn't there.

The building blacked out.

* * *

"It's Yotsuba-L. I mean the siege and everything. It's Yotsuba-L," whined Matsuda, bandaging his leg.

Light ignored him.

"He's after the evidence we got on him. Ide's somewhere here and he has it. It's hair, just hair. 11-inch blonde hair."

Nobody bothered to tell Light about any hair.

_Okay, fine. YL wants his hair back, let's go with that_, he thought, annoyance being the last thing he'd be worrying over.

Wasn't this all just peachy?

Matsuda was having a nice conversation with himself. Perhaps he would like some tea?

There was a fucking terrorist in the building after them, and all Matsuda could do was whine while the rest of them were too busy barricading the freaking door.

Within half an hour of closing the elevator doors into the masked face of a very dangerous person, running into a panicked Ryuzaki who slammed into a wall with the lack of light, avoiding bullets and watching Matsuda catch one in his leg, Light figured he'll try to run a tracer on their hacker. Hopefully that'll give them his exact location. They take out the surveillance man – no more being tracked.

His plan involved getting into the main office area.

The chief didn't like it.

Light told him he could totally do it.

The chief refused.

Mogi offered to go with Light.

The chief didn't budge.

Light figured he could sneak out and do it anyway.

The chief had that psychic glitter in his eyes, and Light realized his father knew him too well... and sneaking out _probably_ wouldn't fly.

So he'd catch the chief off-guard and run off to the main office area anyway.

...and that's when Ide finally walked in with an evidence briefcase attached to his hand via six-foot long chain.

---

"Raito-kun's father is fired, so, _so_ fired..." whined Ryuzaki into his knees.

Firing his dad was definitely no threat in their current situation, but after taking a good hour to calm down and trash everything he could reach, Light would fire his dad's ass to the freaking _moon_.

"Raito-kun, no more tossing things!"

Not there was anything worthy of tossing around anymore, although that stapler... But Ryuzaki snatched the stapler before Light could even imagine just where he would've thrown it, and started smashing the piece of plastic against the chain that went around a counter-like table and bound two boys and the table together.

"That's going to help," said Light bitterly.

"If Raito-kun has any brilliant ideas, I shall not refuse him my immediate audience."

"Well if you'd kicked his handcuffing ass when he jumped you..."

"I was not in a position to do anything of sorts as I _was jumped_," came from the little ball of shabby clothes.

"Can't you take responsibility just this once?"

"I would have taken the responsibility if it was my responsibility to take."

"Jesus, Ryuzaki!" Light grabbed an object closest to him in proximity and sent it flying straight for Ryuzaki. As this object happened to be an empty paper cup, it landed almost half-way to Ryuzaki's feet. "Can't you talk like a normal person just this once?!!"

"I do not understand what Raito-kun may mean by that."

_Well, you smug little pain-in-the-ass._

"God damn you! Don't you understand that we'll get killed?"

"Should Raito-kun's father have believed this was an unsafe situation to leave Raito-kun in, he would have not done so."

"There's a fucking killer that as far as we know is in the next room!"

"But this killer is not inthe room with us because this room happens to be the panic room. Raito-kun's father left Raito-kun and me in a perfectly safe room."

"Handcuffed to a counter."

"Raito-kun is picky."

"Would you stop it with the speech patterns already?" Because looking at the arrogant moron provoked killing urges in Light, he proceeded to stare into the distance, where lay a drill kit. The drill kit would be very useful, but only if the arrogant moron would move and give Light more chain distance so that he could actually reach it.

No such luck. Ryuzaki, apparently, was visually impaired when it came to spotting drill kits.

When Light tried to give him visual clues to move, Ryuzaki suddenly became blind and oblivious.

_For the sake of..._

"Ryuzaki, _move_, so I can get the drill kit."

When Ryuzaki gave him a 'why would Raito-kun want to do such a thing?' look, Light sighed in exhaustion and gave up.

And then he got bored of silently fuming.

"And just why is it that you think staying chained to a counter is a good idea?"

"Well," muttered Ryuzaki as he uncurled from his dance, thick and stupid cocoon, "Raito-kun and I are in a room, together, alone... One can't help but come up with obscene activities to do in such a predicament."

"…hell no."

The subject was already breached, and Ryuzaki's interest could only grow. Light groaned.

"No, now go away."

"Where can I go when there is but six feet of chain between us?"

"Go to your side of the counter."

"Was Raito-kun dissatisfied with my performance yesterday?"

After an awkward pause, Light turned away. He couldn't see what Ryuzaki was doing behind him, but somehow the bastard managed to change the atmosphere of the room without being looked at.

"I was not aware I made Raito-kun unhappy."

"It's not that," Light said in even monotone.

"I insist. Is Raito-kun alright?"

"I'm _fine_," he spat.

"I_ insist_, Raito-kun."

Instead of being angry and difficult, Light did the next best thing as to not feel awkward anymore.

"I'm fine, Ryuzaki-san," he smiled brightly.

Ryuzaki ignored the sarcasm.

"I apologize if I hurt Raito-kun in any way."

"Great, thanks. We should now concentrate on getting out of here, if you don't mind."

"Ah, but I do mind, Raito-kun."

"Oh?"

"Yes, we may not proceed towards freeing ourselves out of this predicament until Raito-kun allows me to fix the errors of yesterday."

"By jumping off a building, no doubt?" Light cheered.

"No, I am afraid nothing as drastic."

"Ryuzaki, don't touch me."

Ryuzaki whined and pouted. Light halfheartedly slapped his advanced hand.

But then again, there was no harm in... well...

"Go to your side of the counter and stay there."

"I will not do that."

"Do it."

"Raito-kun."

"What?"

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

And without covering much distance as there was barely any between them, Ryuzaki's chapped lips pressed to Light's own. He closed his eyes, and sandpaper kisses washed over his lips.

"You need to learn to use chapstick, Ryuzaki."

"Raito-kun's lips are so soft he'd done well using chapstick for both of us."

"Hmm..."

He liked it. No matter what Light thought of Ryuzaki - his advances and his god-awful wardrobe - he liked kissing him.

"This is weird," he draped an arm around the bony shoulders.

"Why, Raito-kun?"

"We're about to be hunted down, and I'm about to have sex with you. Again."

"We are not having sex, Raito-kun."

"Hmm?" Light cracked open one eye and checked his pants. They weren't there.

...?

"This," Ryuzaki smacked him on the lips one last time, "is just for you," and dove down.

"Oh... oh. Um... okay."

"Raito-kun is uncomfortable with this?" said the man as he pulled Light out of his boxers.

"Um, well, no."

Gently, Ryuzaki nibbled at the tip and Light's member gave a small jerk. He was limp but warm, and Ryuzaki's cold fingers slowly trailing the underside of his length made Light close his eyes and lean back against the counter.

Weird... weird place to do this.

Oh there, _yes _there...

"Mmm…Ryu-oh! Cell phones!" Light sat up abruptly.

Ryuzaki stared at him, rolled his eyes and sat back up only to stare directly at Light, completely unamused.

"Yes, Ryuzaki, cell phones."

Ryuzaki rolled his eyes one more time and folded his arms across his chest.

"You know what, never mind," he huffed.

_Oh never mind that. _

"Cell phones. That is how we are being tracked around this building."

"And this is more important than me going out of my way to gratify Raito-kun... how?"

Light frowned.

"A better question would be, 'But how can this be, Raito-kun? How can cell phones be tracked without a satellite hacking?'"

"Alright, _that_," said the man, still annoyed.

"If they're good enough to hack a government computer and fish out encrypted building maps _and _decipher them in under a minute, they might as well be able to hack area 51 for all I care."

"Fine. We should warn the team."

As if karma had a bone to pick with Light, Ryuzaki's announcing mechanism snapped on, and a distorted, mechanic voice bounced against the walls of the small cubical room.

"_Dear Japanese Investigation Team, I've been chasing you for eight hours. Seriously. Just assemble on the main floor. Should this demand not be met within ten minutes, I will blow the whole building to hell 9-11 style. Thank you for your cooperation."_

"...Raito-kun's father must be banging his head against the wall right now."

"Shut up and pass me the drill kit."

---

The rendezvous point was the lobby floor.

"We run for it, he'll shoot us because dad, Mogi, you aren't very fast." Light eyed Matsuda's shot-up leg, "Matsuda is just screwed."

"If he finds the cell phones abandoned or not in motion," pitched in Ryuzaki, "he will blow the building."

Light translated: "If we dump the phones in the building, he'll _know_ we dumped the phones, he'll just blow the whole building to hell with us in it!"

Soichiro Yagami suspiciously looked like he was debating weather a chair or a sink would be best to cuff the boys to, but it was too late.

Light shot a meaningful stare at Ryuzaki, and to his surprise, Ryuzaki was feeling significantly less oblivious.

"AAh! Look there!" shrieked the hermit man, jumping up and pointing his long, bony finger in a random direction. In the midst of momentary panic, Light snatched the phones off the floor and before the team knew it, Light and Ryuzaki dashed, chain clinking haphazardly between the two boys and then they were gone, fire doors of the building slamming behind them.

The cell phones were still moving, and as far as Yotsuba-L would know, the entire L and Yotsuba investigation team was now running though Ryuzaki's parking lot.

What poor timing to be heroes.

---

January evenings in Japan came early, the sun set hours ago and eerie glow of a Saturday eight-something at night did nothing to ease the chill of winter. Weather had been kind lately, but during the eight-hour siege on the temporary police headquarters, it seemed that nature's favor passed and winter cold bit Light into the ribs as he ran though Ryuzaki's property.

Had they managed to bust though the front door, lively Tokyo weekend would embrace them and they would be lost in the crowds, phones dumped in garbage cans, and as far as the enemy would know, they would have escaped; blowing up the building would be pointless if no one was in it.

The case with Ryuzaki, the paranoid freak that he was, was that the back door of his damn castle lead to a secluded staff parking lot, two complexes used for nothing and dark alleys between the streets, streets not big or popular enough to gather a crowd. Good for hiding, bad for being found.

And yet it was all they had, and should either one be caught, it would end for both of them, the chain ensured this. For now, they could seriously screw each other over.

As they ran, his father and the team would hide, and Yotsuba-L would be dashing through those same doors any second. Then, the Chief of police would let the SWATs in and help evacuate the janitorial crew and whoever else might be in the building. Then the help will come for them too.

Until then, they ran, chain colliding with the ground rhythmically, their breaths hitched and Ryuzaki's bare feet slapping against the pavement.

The man was nothing like what he had to show for. Skinny, sickly, weak, definitely not agile-looking or athletic at all, Ryuzaki Rue could sure as hell run. Probably could do other things, many other things, things...

"When this is over - play tennis with me-?" he panted, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of nostalgia, probably even desperate for something to look forward to.

Ryuzaki said nothing but gave a nod. "There is a gate ahead - locks the property – from drunk clubbers - we'll have to - turn."

Seeing as they ware far enough from the building, Light tossed the phones.

It was a ten more minutes running distance when they heard army boots hitting the ground at and alarming phase, somewhere far away still. The chain. He could hear them, and Ryuzaki rolled the chain around his own wrist, significantly cutting the distance between himself and Light, but eliminating the source of the noise. Their lungs had the weight of steal and they were tasting blood on their breaths for quite some time. Neither could keep it up for much longer.

Light noticed his watch to read 8:50. The slow and old officers were out of the building at this point. SWAT would have evacuated Ryuzaki's service crews and genitors by now. Police would look for them next. Help was on the way.

"We should hide," he whispered, minimizing any sound they made. Ryuzaki jerked them towards another dark alley, one that was conveniently a garbage alley, and they dove behind one of the numerous trash boxes.

8:55

Light's heart was anxiously pounding, and his self-preservation instincts were overwhelmed with something else, something he was forgetting, something–

Rapid sounds of squeaky rubber echoed distantly.

"Your watch," hot breath of a whisper hit Light's ear and his heart stopped for a brief moment.

"It beeps," said Ryuzaki, and Light cursed in his mind, turning his full attention to the traitorous piece of technology. It will not betray him this time.

He put in on silent, as the footsteps slowed down and turned, entering the very narrow dead-end with scattered trashcans and various junk.

Light held his breath and he could no longer hear Ryuzaki's.

Sounds of rubber smooching the wet ground passed them but did not regain pace. He was looking. Light peaked though stacked cardboard that was the only shield between the black-clad figure in a ski-mask and them; the man in tight black jumpsuit pulled out his gun and went to check every good hiding spot, slowly, one by one...

He knew they were there. 8:57.

Wasn't scaring the fuck out of everyone enough to send the damn message?!! Ryuzaki put his hands on his shoulders, probably sensing a panic attack that was so untimely. Light nearly sobbed when the silenced shots hit the pile of rubbish right next to them.

A step south and they would be in his plain sight...

Then faint static, like of someone talking on the other side of the phone. The figure dropped the hand with the gun, and Light almost sighed in relief but caught himself in time.

More static.

"Fine," he heard a distinctly male voice bark in angry English and the man regained his pace and left the alley. "Lost 'em anyway. Pick me up babe."

8:58, and he could hear police sirens in a distance, but the rush of adrenaline wasn't over. Cold, white fear still held him in its trance, like something important, something bad was right there, lurking, waiting...

"Raito-kun," said Ryuzaki, quietly and evenly, like all danger in the world passed and nothing could bother him. Light shivered and said nothing.

"Is there anything Raito-kun wishes to ask me?"

8:59

For some reason, Light couldn't look away from the watch, like he had... like he had to count time. He could faintly hear Ryuzaki.

Why was his watch blurry? Oh, was he crying? Funny.

A few tears hit the ground.

"Raito-kun-"

"We made it Ryuzaki! We made it, oh god we made it!" He tried to convince himself.

Anything, anything to make this horrible, horrible feeling go away...

"It's over! It's over! We-we made it... we did..." he sobbed and whatever the hell he was thinking, he jumped onto Ryuzaki's lap, grabbed harshly into the black hair and kissed him on his lips, cheeks and neck before settling on sobbing on his shoulder. "We did..."

Ryuzaki made no gesture.

"_Light-_"

"You-you promised to play tennis with me! J-just to let you know, I'll kick your ass, I will, I'm a junior champion of – of – you can't back out now, you promised... you promised..."

Ryuzaki said nothing for a moment or so before sighing heavily and patting Light on the head.

"Yes. I will play tennis with you."

It was 9:01 on a Saturday evening.

**

* * *

**With a lingering, content exhale, Light fell back into the crisp sheets, and Ryuzaki eagerly hopped on top of him.

"Hmm, this is becoming a bad habit," he grumbled, fisting the black hair and throwing his head back.

"Terrible," Ryuzaki agreed hastily, already helping himself out of his own pants.

Typical.

"Don't think much of it, I was just scared and need psychological comfort."

Very seriously, Ryuzaki retreated from his neck and hovered above him, his eyes huge and face deathly.

"This is very psychologically comforting," he deadpanned.

Light rolled his eyes and pulled the idiot back down. Really, it was during stupid moments like this that he felt completely comfortable with the idiotic person that was Ryuzaki Rue.

Ryuzaki Rue.

Ryuzaki Rue was not L.

Probably.

…

---

…

And just as they were about to have comfort-sex, Ryuzaki's Watari-Phone rang.

"You're kidding me."

"It is two in the morning. Watari, what is it?"

British, are we?

A few moments later, Ryuzaki sighed and with one last longing look in Light's general direction, got up.

"It's not over yet."

"What now?"

"Kira."

Oh.

He knew he was forgetting something.

Well, more like, he wiped Kira out of his mind until he could go home and deal with it. In the morning. Kira turned out to be a disaster because the purpose of Kira was to get rid of Ryuzaki because Ryuzaki was L.

Ryuzaki _probably _wan't L.

So there was a problem. A problem that killed three people.

The guilt would down on him when he would be more awake and less horny.

"Ryuzaki, look, we've moved to a- a-different building that you conveniently had at your disposal, and got everything around and my dad and everyone are a few floors below us -sleeping mind you - and we were about to have really,_ really_ good sex, and Kira- Come now, _Kira_? Unless Kira and L are eloping, I really don't see how it can concern us...."

Ryuzaki didn't mind him at all.

"... at two in the morning."

No?

"You don't really have any sense of time whatsoever, do you?"

Nothing.

"Okay, fine," Light got up, "what about Kira?"

"She's dead."

Light suddenly felt nauseous.

"'She'?"

"Kyomi Takada. You knew her."

"I... have. I talked to her yesterday."

Light was anxious, and if Ryuzaki noticed, he kept it to himself, probably attributing it to the shock one would feel after finding out his ex was a murderer.

Light went with that.

"Yes. It seems after she murdered her girlfriend –the hotel clerk that checked you in that night –she was arrested and let out on bail. I am not informed of full details, but her mental condition was... unstable. She used her student press pass to sneak into SakuraTV, killed the guard and left the tape we have all seen this morning. Then she found the two released rapists on and arranged blind dates with them. She killed them as well."

Light took a deep breath and _acted_.

"With heart attacks?"

"Air. A syringe full of air shot straight into the main artery. Instant heart attack."

Light nodded, false confusion clearing up from his face.

"If she was not implicated, police would have considered 'Kira' some sort of God until at least the end of the week."

"Implicated? Who-"

"She was murdered, and a note was left on her person."

_No. _

"And how do we fit into this?" Light asked, though he already knew the answer.

"She was killed by L. He left a message on the back of her L card."

* * *

"_**Dear Kira, **_

_**shut the fuck up. **_

_**-L". **_

"…" said Light.

"...nice," said Matsuda.

"What the hell," said Mogi.

What a very... un-Ryuzaki thing to do, though at this point it didn't matter. The person he thought was L wasn't. The thought didn't sit well with his gut, but that's how it was, so no more fooling around. He had to focus on cleaning up the mess he made; no more chasing a ghost that wasn't there.

"Bold," said Ryuzaki as he crept up behind Light in a stalker-like in a manner.

After blinking dully a few times, Light turned around and gave Ryuzaki the most outraged look he could manage. The weirdo just poped a chocolate.

'_Dear Kira, shut the fuck up.' _

Like, seriously?

"Uh-huh," said Matsuda, still dumbly staring at the scanned note.

"Right, okay," tried someone in the room, "do we have... any proof that this is actually L?"

"Nope."

"Right, I don't buy it."

"Raito-kun thinks it wasn't L either?"

"Honestly? Sounds more like a pissed-off American teenager on crack than an assassin wanted by fifty countries," deadpanned Light.

"Interesting. Outrage made Raito-kun misplace his fake good manners."

"Excuse me, fake? Coming from someone who has none at all-"

"Boys!"

"Sorry dad, it's just that it seems that some American with an enormous ego wrote this, maybe he even has a mental condition, nothing that fits L's profile at all."

"So out of the entire honorable L investigation team, no officer thinks this was L's doing?"

Silence.

"Alright, your judgment is trustworthy, I dismiss this."

And who put Ryuzaki in charge again? That was quick though. A little too quick, even Matsuda noticed.

_What are you doing, implicating yourself? _

Light gave the moron a meaningful look and asked carefully.

"Do you believe this was L's doing, Ryuzaki-san?"

"I do believe it was L's doing. This crime seems professional enough to fit L's standard."

Takada was shot and placed into the anchor chair of Sakura TV. Security tapes were wiped and the guards saw or heard nothing. Takada might as well have teleported into the studio, after she died of course.

Oh, come _on_.

Just when things couldn't get any more complicated… Light was screwed.

"We should not concern ourselves with this. Kira was short of a low-life terrorist only by so much, this now-third-fake-L is only concerned with Kira. I feel the need to remind you that you are a special task force whose sole concern should be capturing L; you are getting paid to investigate Yotsuba in the meanwhile... I suggest leaving Yotsuba-L alone and focusing on his targets instead. I am running out of suitable buildings to use as headquarters."

Three headquarters, three Ls and no progress. There was an L, who was very dangerous and psychotic. There was a Yotsuba-L who had some sort of grudge against the investigation team; he was also psychotic. There was a dead Kira, who was killed by either L, Yotsuba-L, or a third psycho claiming to be L.

"Since when is it cool to be L?" Matsuda asked nobody in particular.

When nobody said anything, Ryuzaki's expression became owlish and we waved both of his hands at the team awkwardly.

"Off to bed, it's four in the morning."

"By the way, son... I thought you went home? How did you get here so fast?"

. "Taxi," his father stared.

Okay.

So far, so good.

No mention of Light anywhere. Hopefully that note was addressed to Takada or the police, and not him, no matter who wrote it.

Still, though.

Four people were dead because of him.

"I'm going home," Light said absently, no-longer in the mood for sex.


	8. Black Water

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I need a vacation, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH8**

**Black Water**

Light was never satisfied with his life, not really.

Which was selfish. He was always loved, adored and pampered, and he was probably the only male person in on the brick of adulthood who wouldn't storm out of the room when his mother brought out his baby pictures. He was as adorable in pink overalls playing with alphabet cubes as he was in his first school uniform holding his first math trophy. So it was a given that having grown up as the center of all possible attention, he fall in love with the smart little boy that everyone else was so much in love with - himself.

That was the problem.

Light Yagami had no way of loving anyone _but_ himself.

He was so perfect, so good at everything he laid his hands on that no one even dared to compete with him. Sometimes he wished somebody _would_ be able to compare, just to shove right past Light and leave him in dust so that Light could realize the perfect image of himself that he'd fallen in love with wasn't so perfect after all. But there was nobody, and the more he realized just what he was capable of, the more this narcissistic love grew.

And so his life was empty.

This was why about half a year ago during his summer vacation he had enough. At that time, he was juggling Misa and Takada. He got the highest possible graduating award, ranked first in nation-wide university entrance exams and figured out the meaning of life.

His life was complete because everything he could ever have was right there and all he had to do was reach out and grab it from the silver platter.

Light's life was no-longer subjective.

So he decided to treat it for what it was: an _object_.

So he gambled with it. And it wasn't a bad gamble either: he dumped Takada and asked Misa to elope with him. They 'eloped' as far as Tokyo (which wasn't very far at all) and broke up over Misa's god-awful rice. He told her he wouldn't love with her cooking. She said it was okay as long as long as he pretended to appreciate it. Two days later she realized it_ wasn't_ okay. At least Misa could read into things symbolically.

Takada, upon being thrown out, took things into perspective. She realized all men were pigs, so she went and got herself a girlfriend... and happily bragged to Light about it, and Light interpreted it as an invitation into some obscene threesome.

As a result, Light took to an occasional drink of ten, Misa got a therapist and Takada slowly lost her mind.

It was around the first time L visited him that Light realized what he needed. He couldn't love anyone and if loving someone was as insane and impulsive as Misa made it look, he needed something like that. And then it hit him. He would love himself no matter how much of a bastard he would become. To love someone meant to fuck yourself over for them, and if he couldn't love, he could sure as hell hate. He needed an enemy.

A strong motherfucker of an enemy he could actually consider his rival.

And then he looked at the object that was his life and realized that his life was a chip in a very grand gambling scheme.

Slowly, he was becoming a player instead of a puny thing for L play with.

And he _loved_ it.

It was also the first time in his life that he realized he needed people. He needed that love and adoration he was so, so used to. He needed moral support and companionship; otherwise he would lose his mind.

So he needed that spontaneous sexually-frustrated bastard with a sugar fetish.

Ryuzaki.

Even back when Light thought Ryuzaki was L he trusted him, and he still did.

This is why it was very important that L would be in Light's shabby rental when Light got home at four in the morning. If L wasn't there, it would mean Ryuzaki _was_ L, and _L_ was currently watching early-morning Korean dramas on his huge wall projector; L's visit was long overdue anyway.

_Please be here, god damn you, _he thought, flicking on the lights.

They worked, and his heart sunk.

_He's the only thing I got to hang on to. Please be here. _

The _Myth of Male Power _lay on the arm of his couch, exactly where he did not leave it.

Light sighed in partial relief.

"Hello L," he said quietly into the empty room.

He heard even footsteps behind him walking away into the corridor to flick off the lights. Light didn't turn around and L knew not to bother to tell him to stay still.

It was an odd silent arrangement, and Light waited patiently for whatever was to come.

"Hello Light," L finally answered into his ear in that alluring low whisper. The coat lifted from his shoulders and with two tugs on the sleeves, peeled away from his body completely.

Light said nothing because it was not his place to speak.

Warm breath scattered the hair at the back of his neck and tickled him, and L's cold thumbs pressed into the base of his skill.

They were familiar yet different.

Many people had bad blood circulation, he told himself.

Light closed his eyes as more of L's cold fingers ghosted over his throat and tilted his head back to rest on the man's shoulder. The rest of his body went lax and he relaxed, if just a little; instead of being terrified to look back, he just did not care enough.

"Come."

The direction he was taken was his bedroom, but it looked different. The blinds were closed and covered over with something because not even the light form the neighboring homes penetrated the darkness. His nightlight, his digital clock, everything that was shiny and had the property of emitting or reflecting light was removed. The room was pitch black and all he could see were faint outlines of his furniture because the door was still open.

He was nudged inside, and heard the door close softly. He could see nothing at all.

So this is how it was going to be.

"Can you see anything?" he asked L half-heartedly.

"Not really," chuckled L.

Feeling for the furniture, they made it to the bed and Light sat down.

Could L see him?

Slowly, he reached out and his fingers touched a pant leg somewhere in the pocket area. Jeans. Carefully, not to alarm the man, Light felt up the pants, came across the rim of the shirt and went sideways until he hit a sleeve. Breathing quietly, he took L's cold hand into his own and guided him towards his own direction.

Finding the bed, L sat down next to him, though Light was sure he gracefully tripped.

This was okay. He did not let go of the cold hand, and for a few minutes they just sat there in complete darkness, aware of each other's existence only because of their quiet breathing.

"L," Light said finally and a faint noise of acknowledgement was his permission to go on, "am I going to die?"

He heard a sharp sigh of annoyance and slowly, almost lazily, the man's free hand pressed onto his chest and slid down to hold his waist; instead of being next to him, L was now short of hovering over him. Light gave, and they both collapsed onto Light's springy mattress.

"You smell like soap," Light noted, again half-heartedly. L rubbed circles into his hipbones. That... did absolutely nothing. Light mused over it for a bit, and figured L wasn't much into it.

"The hell I'm gonna give you encouragement," Light mumbled grudgingly sideways.

L snorted, and the weight on the mattress around Light suddenly lifted and pooled around his feet, and after what lasted as long as it took L to find ground, disappeared completely. Sounds of the static of a sweater being pulled over hair followed, then came the heavier drop of pants to the ground. A few buckles were undone and two heavy metallic pieces fall onto his far table. Much softer fabric slid a few feet down and dropped lightly on top of the pants.

Light kicked off his own pants and waited. The blanket under him was yanked.

"Off," the man commanded, "your clothes, too."

Light lost his shirt as he stood up, but his briefs were... Light hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his briefs and peeled them off bravely. He shivered. Though the snow took a brake for a week, it was still mid-winter and Light liked to save on his energy bill.

"Nothing weird, okay?" he said after a long pause before getting under the blankets. If L wanted to do something weird and gross, he most definitely wouldn't pay any mind to his request, though Light didn't really think L had anything weird and gross in mind. Just because.

He heard a hand scouting the sheets for him, turned towards the sound and saw absolutely nothing. The darkness was obsolete.

His eyes were useless. He closed them.

_Just listen. _

L finally found him and as soon as the cold skin of his fingers touched Light's relatively warm flesh, Light sucked in a sharp breath and goosebumps spread out from the point of contact; he felt a rush spread though his blood along with the hysteric shiver that the touch created. _God..._

He was short of hyperventilating when his mouth was caught between two sticky chapstick-covered lips and hell broke loose when his naked, warm body was wrapped with two cold thighs and those fingers that were barely gracing his shoulder turned into an open palm, running down his arm before clutching into it, hard.

Light shuddered violently again, and the man gripped onto his other arm harder still, assaulting his mouth with heavy kisses.

Almost suddenly, Light had an erection. His member was half-hard and almost standing, and he was afraid that anymore of this, and it would touch the belly of the man hovering only a few inches above him. The rush was back.

Adrenaline and hormones.

Damn it. It was the aftershock of the day. Damn it, damn it. He lay there, still as he could be, and yet what he wanted, what his body was aching to do, was to _move_. Move anywhere. Jump, run, _move._ He screwed his eyes shut as hard as he could until he could see static circles at the back of his eyelids.

_Stay the fuck still_, he screamed in his head as L left his mouth and hastily danced down his chest. The grip on his arm loosened and suddenly, out of nowhere, those cold fingers ghosted over his lower abdomen, and that finally did it.

In an angry shove, he freed his hand and as he felt L about to pin him back down, Light stabbed the man's back with his own fingernails and yanked down as hard as he could. L's cold flesh slapped against his own, successfully knocking the breath out of him and flattening him to Light. His erection was pinned down by L's cold belly and twitched violently at the contact. He had no idea where L's was in that department, but the hell he cared. Grabbing almost desperately into the bony shoulder, he yanked at the mop of what he imagined to be black hair and pulled up until he could kiss any part of L's face himself.

_Damn it, this is so not right_, he thought to himself when the man chuckled and pressed their bodies together and draped his hands around Light's waist.

"Haa..." was all he could hear himself say as he found the man's mouth and attacked, opening up and trying to catch the warm tongue inside with is own, "Nn..."

And then he felt it: hard, warm flesh against his bare thigh almost burned him. "Nnn," he bucked his hips trying to free his own member because if this was all L was going to do about his erection, he would at least touch himself... but the man got the hint and fisted him before he could even decide which hand to send down... there...

"Oh," he sucked in a sharp breath as the man squeezed hard. Very hard, too hard. Light hissed and slapped his thighs shut on pure instinct, cursing under his breath, digging his nails into L's back and feeling warm blood sip out.

L... _L!_

_Fuck._

"Aww…nnhh..." a little sound that escaped Light's open mouth and got stuck somewhere in L's throat in-between the kiss. "Haa… fuck..." pain, sweet pain stabbed him in his lower abdomen like he has kicked or punched or _something_ and his belly immediately clenched, making the muscles of his legs to relax and right away, not even giving Light a fucking second to catch his breath, L was down there, still clutching painfully at the base of his shaft while, while...

"L-let go..." he managed and L let go, and his erection sprung up immediately, as hard as it would get and Light moaned shamelessly. Cold digits went lower still and Light tensed as they cupped his very _sensitive_ sack; if the fucking bastard was going to pull the same shit _there_, he'd _kill him_... His clenched thighs were pried open and as the sweet warmth of L's mouth explored wondrous places while long, cold and wet _things_, two at a time, slid harshly inside of him.

"Fuck," Light sat up sharply but L was a leap ahead of him and slammed him back down; the strong hand at his throat made him still, and L stopped moving too, take the now three obnoxious fingers that _oh... fuck... just fucking hit his... prostate... _

"F-fuck… yy-" his voice failed him and precum streamed down his abandoned manhood, "Yy—got... go-ot four f-f-fckn m-minutes."

If L actually laughed with his full voice at the warning, Light couldn't hear it. Sharp, scorching pain tore though his lower back when L penetrated him in one sharp thrust. Unfit and hard, his swollen member pulsated against Light's inner walls and Light could actually feel the man's accelerated heartbeat inside of himself.

_Hot. _

His leg was over L's shoulder and the sheets he was clenching into were sweaty and sticky.

The air of the room smelled like sweat and soap, and Light realized his head was dangerously close the headboard. It was probably dawn, though his windows were far too well barricaded to let in any light.

Which way was the window, anyway?

L pulled out of him and the same pain tore though him again when he slammed back it, and Light fisted a handful of damp hair. As the man rammed into him again and again, the pain never really dulled out, but in light of L's mischievous hand that jammed a fingernail into his slit and the bundle of nerves somewhere deep inside of him that were bothered every time the man tore at his clenched inner muscles, the pain was okay.

His mattress cried in rhythm with L and Light found himself bucking his hips on pure instinct, anything to make L reach _deeper..._

"Ha…aaaa.. f-fu.." finding no comfort in L's hair, Light grabbed onto the sheets so hard that his nails broke and his fingertips bled. "Too f-fuc… haaar-ha... d... f.." L squeezed him at the base and stroked upwards without releasing, making things very tight and wonderful and Light screamed.

Hot liquid mess, different from burning pain, L's harness, warm lubricant or blood eased L's way in even further and the bastard rammed into him faster still, lifting Light's hips off the mattress completely.

Light swore one last time before releasing; the orgasm tore though him and clamped every muscle so it took L two or so uneven thrusts to spill into Light.

The man collapsed on top of him, but Light didn't care. His ears rang, his hypersensitive skin tingled and dull burning inside of him was somehow the most wonderful thing in the world.

It was done.

L rolled them over. Panting, Light lay on L's heaving chest. Heavy scent of sweat and semen filled the still air of the room and Light's sweaty arm stuck to L's side. No matter. This was bliss.

When he laced his bloody fingers with L's, he found his hand warm and slippery. He became aware that the lubricant L used wasn't Light's, the thing over his window was probably his old, thick quilt, the blankets and pillows got thrown off to the floor in the heat of the moment and Light's foot was feeling the bare mattress because the sheet was probably torn off as well.

L's chest was smooth and his hair was mostly concentrated in his lower abdomen and his sex, and the soap he used was the most god-awful soap he'd ever smelled... thankfully L's natural scent made it alright. He had to suppress the urge to hop on top of the man and touch his arms and face.

_Hmm…_

…his curiosity had no right to get better of him because doing something like fingering every cure of L's face would definitely defy the purpose of the dark room.

As he eyed the blackness in random wonder, Light couldn't help but sulk a little; his first time with Ryuzaki... was wasteful to say the least.

Though he really shouldn't compare. Shouldn't. They were far too similar, their longish hair, the sent of their sweat, the painfully familiar way L felt inside of him... though those might as well have been true for all men, after all this was only his second time.

_Only. _

_Hah. _

Light yawned and settled in between L's neck and shoulder. The man blew a puff of air at him and Light slapped his side.

"What's with the soap, anyway?"

Probably not a proper question to ask.

"Not the right question to ask, Light."

"Hah."

And so they lay there.

"Any _right _questions you have for me?" said L, still whispering, and Light realized he's been waiting for him to say something else.

"Oh right. Umm... what happened to killing me?"

"...I changed my mind."

_So you were planning on it. _

"For how long?"

L made an annoyed sound at the back of his throat.

Light debated it for a second and decided to push the subject further.

"I'm on your investigation team, you know."

"So I do."

"I'm gonna catch you before you change your mind back."

At that, L chuckled, rolled them over, took Light's face in his hands and kissed him, and was gone.

Gradually, light seeped in though his curtains and at first Light could make out faint shapes of his 'gently-used' furniture, then finer things like books, pens and other garbage.

Much changed since he'd last seen his room.

An old quilt covered his window, his study desk was moved to the side of the room and his textbooks were stacked on a stool he used as a TV table until the darn thing broke... If he recognized the spines correctly, his books were arranged alphabetically.

Hmm. Light preferred to sort textbooks by color instead.

His bedside table with a lamp was moved a few feet away from his bed and surely enough, Light could see his digital clock, booklight and iPod dock, all unplugged and dumped carelessly in the corner by the door.

_Get rid of it._ Light took the hint.

An unscrewed bottle of lubricant lay leaking on his carpet. When'd the bastard manage to use it? A condom wrapper lay next to it. Okay, that one he'd definitely remember, so he reached down and scooped some of L's quickly drying semen from his thigh.

A condom wrapper, what the hell.

Curiously, Light bounced off the bed far enough to the side to reach the thing, careful to avoid any movement that jerked his damaged insides. Half-opened, the rubber ring still inside… torn. With teeth. Useless. Apparently L got too eager opening it and broke the thing.

_Always have a spare_, he joked.

**

* * *

**It was a crisp, cold Sunday morning, the kind that was as deceitful as Sunday mornings could get. It will without any doubt whatsoever, start pouring before afternoon and rain will last throughout the next few weeks; occasionally the air will get cold enough and the rain will freeze into snow and then it would melt, turning streets into muddy pools, and it will not stop raining.

This would be Light's first-ever rainy season that he will not spend behind the windows of some learning establishment. The notion was odd because Light never really resented school or was eager to get out of it. Prep-school, school, cram-school, To-Oh, cram school for To-Oh... when his father forced him to take at least one weekend day off, Light was really at loss of what to do, that's why an hour ago when his father made it clear that should he show up to their third L-investigation headquarters, Soichiro will toss him out personally.

Not that Light minded.

He wasn't in the mood to see Ryuzaki.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with Matsuda and the rest of the team, either.

Or call up his trusty group of worshipping friends and go to some lame place and do useless things.

_Booze. _

Light wanted booze.

Strong, cheep booze that will wash away the discomfort of walking, shame and guilt.

Booze that'll make him forget things like Ryuzaki and L, and that psychopath with blonde hair and army boots. He didn't want to _care. _

He kind of just slept with a person he vowed to get killed. Crucial evidence like DNA, fingerprints and hair that would be so, _so_ vital for police to have was right there, and all it would really take Light was a walk down to the HQ and a small bag to have these things put to proper use... instead Light washed our the semen and got rid of the rest.

Out of pride.

_Too bad. _

Oh yeah, and he kind of got four people killed... _Whoops. _

_Yeah, that's pretty much it. _

Misa.

He wanted to call and bitch to Misa.

But then again, booze and Misa were the same devil, so he might as well get to the one that was closer, which happened to be a corner bar that didn't mind giving kids hefty bottles of the strongest Vodka they got.

"Hey, you!" called out an irate female voice, but Light continued walking. The bar was right there. It was a Sunday. A backpacker wanted to get friendly with a good-looking college student.

"Wait, will you!" hah. Japanese girls, especially in heels of that size would never run. Westerners and their awful manners. Light slowed down to a lazy stroll, deciding to let her catch up and give he a piece of his mind once she did. Probably some old bat in her thirties...

She caught up.

"Miss, you know what-" he started and abruptly stopped once a black leather-clad golden badge was thrust in front of him before he could even turn.

"Misora Naomi, FBI."

When Light first laid his eyes on the woman, an odd sense of resentment almost made him gag. In her fuck-off stilettos, Misora Naomi stood a good inch above him. Her black turtleneck sweater seemed to suck masculinity away from her surroundings and if anything, her tiny, subtle Prada made her look anything but. The tips of her tailored leather jacket moved stiffly with her hips.

Subconsciously, Light erected his shoulders.

_American power-bitches..._

"Yagami Raito," he said hatefully, "what can I do for you?"

The woman just smirked at the implication to get lost.

"Care to take a lady for a coffee, Raito-kun? There is a nice café down the street from here."

Her Japanese was rusty and a little outdated, and by 'nice café', Light suspected she meant Starbucks. Americans. He gestured ahead and she followed his lead without a comment.

A scheming moment of silence later, Light elaborated.

"So Naomi-san, was it? What can I do for _the FBI_?"

"For FBI?" she laughed dryly as if Light was talking her for a coffee out of the goodness of his heart, "nothing for FBI I'm afraid, FBI does not exactly have jurisdiction in Japan, and I am not on duty."

Light stared, debating if he should push her into the livid traffic.

"Don't look so outraged!" she misplaced her exclamation and mispronounced three out of four words of the sentence, "It's protocol not to lie when you're asking for a favor."

They cut a parking lot and entered a half-empty coffee shop. Light ignored the woman's longing look across the street in the general direction of the Starbucks and got the bitch a decaf with no sugar.

From her expression, he guessed she got the hint to cut some calories, but easily dismissed the insult.

"And what would this favor be?" he said when they were out of the earshot of the curious cash girl. She pleasantly sipped her decaf. They were walking again.

"Well, you see technically this is my wedding trip, but because of the... circumstances, I got my fiancé to take me here sooner... and rigged the only available hotel to be in Kanto, which is very far from Shibuya, so I'm not sure for how much longer this excuse is going to fly, hmm..."

_That's nice. _

"And what would this favor be?" Light repeated, unflattered by her efforts.

"Well the first one would be not to tell my fiancé I got to you when he finds out what I'm up to."

_Because he's probably FBI too. _

"And?"

She sat on a bus bench.

"I have a question for you, Raito Yagami."

_Backwards, woman. You say names last name first. _

He sat down next to her casually, crossing his legs much like her. At this point, Light was more interested in intimidating her than finding out what she wanted.

"I am aware that you are unofficially connected to the L investigation." That wasn't a question. Light's ears immediately perked. "I am also aware why you came into contact with the L investigation in the first place."

He waited for her to continue, wracking his brain for FBI names he came in contact with when he rampaged though Mogi's computer. _Naomi, Naomi..._

"My question for you is what you think of Ryuzaki Rue."

The question made him narrow his eyes.

"I think he needs a shower," he said dryly.

"Is that all?"

"_Yes_."

"Isn't there anything else you thought about him, perhaps something you were later on convinced otherwise?"

Light focused on the fucked-up structure of Misora's sentence to dull out the sudden buzzing of thoughts. FBI weren't stupid enough to take his drunken accusations seriously, no way that was the case, and yet here she was, the impersonation of a bitchy fox, spitting nonsense in the name of FBI.

"Isn't there anything, Raito-kun?"

He had to say it.

"At first, I thought Ryuzaki Rue was L."

She brought her coffee away from her face and smiled.

"So do I."

Misora Naomi. FBI, National Security Branch, Directorate of Intelligence. L Division, one of four members. Members qualified exclusively for L expertise.

Namely, the authors of that L-dedicated 214 page fax.

If she didn't know what she was talking about, nobody did.

Light forced himself to breathe.

"You think a closet-billionaire who funds police is a mass murderer," he stated.

"No."

_Don't you dare say it. _

"I think…" _Don't_.

But she didn't even pause.

"...that a closet-billionaire who funds police is dead."

There was more, and Light didn't want to hear it, though he could hear it in his head, the lines recited again and again, ideas, convictions, reasoning... his _own_ reasoning that took so much effort to _dismiss..._

_Don't, don't. _

"I think that after you saw him, he let you go because he didn't think you would remember him. He does that. Then he changed his mind. He did the simplest thing he could: Ryuzaki Rue was conveniently in Japan, conveniently faceless and continently tied to police."

_And then he got bored._

"And then he got bored and decided to fool around and see if you recognized him in person. You did."

The sudden gust of wind blew the steam away from her coffee.

"Don't think you're special, Raito Yagami, what he's doing to you... he's done it before, many times to many other good-looking men. He knows what he likes. Whatever you do, he will get bored of you eventually and then he will kill you and everyone around you. _He does that_."

Light put most of his strength into convincingly rolling his eyes.

"Bullshit. Rue's scared of L and is hiding. I think L left a while ago."

She caught the lie. Her eyes softened and her lips curled into a gentle smile of pity. Light gagged.

"Think whatever you like, Raito-kun; I don't think you got anything to worry about for a while, this... _other L_ is keeping him entertained alright. For the moment anyway."

If Light was anxious, his face sure as hell showed none of it. He smiled lazily.

"Thanks for the warning," he acted relieved that the matter with FBI was nothing important.

The woman laughed.

"That's probably why he likes you," and she was walking away, her stilettos clacking loudly against hard pavement.

She was half-way out of sight when Light darted after her.

"Misora-san!"

She stared at him.

_He's done it before._ "...Yotsuba-L, I want to ask you about the other L," he changed his mind mid-sentence and spat out the most reasonable question instead, "how do you know about him?"

If she caught him lying again, she said nothing about it.

"She's been linked to very high-class political assassinations; she's mostly for hire. _Loves _faking L. There isn't much to her. Or him. I _think_ she's a woman: she has very good taste in leatherwear..."

And Naomi was off again, blabbering to herself about leather and weddings and female superiority.


	9. Hell Hath No Fury

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I own a talking plant and lots of jam, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**I: The Problem of Evil**

**CH9**

**Hell Hath No Fury**

_Air. _

His entire theory of L, L killings, everything – busted.

If it wasn't for his bleeding pride that was nearly drained already, his soul _hurt._ God damn women. God damn them. Takada, Naomi... all of them. Female purpose was to destroy everything men had, and then chortle at them from the heavens.

Along with the lives of those she killed, Takada dragged Light's pure soul though mud. She just did as she was told, and that shredded the last respect he had for women; couldn't a woman, just for once, think for herself??!

He deserved what Takada brought on him.

What he didn't deserve was Misora Naomi. He did not ask for Misora Naomi. The only wedge that was holding him together was that out of this whole mess he got himself into, the only light at the end of the tunnel was Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki, the sadistic snob that he was, was friendly enough to help Light get though this just by being there, too bad it took Light a series of near-death experiences to realize that.

Ryuzaki was on his side. A friend... with benefits. A_ friend_.

_Fuck you Misora Naomi. _

At the most desperate point of his life, he did not need the bitch to come and discredit his fragile trust in Ryuzaki.

Maybe she was right.

In spite of the complete lack of evidence, Ryuzaki might as well have turned off the lights and fucked Light into the headboard. Ryuzaki might as well had wanted to kill him in that garbage alley. Ryuzaki could've easily killed Takada between the switch of headquarters. Hell, Ryuzaki could've hired Yotsuba-L himself.

It fucking _hurt_.

And the thing with Takada... L...

Either he overestimated himself or greatly underestimated L... or both.

He was ashamed. Ashamed of himself, ashamed of what he'd done, ashamed of being shot down so easily, ashamed of being _wrong_. Ashamed of being used as a fucktoy by men, just as men would use _women_.

L did him, and not only was Light powerless to stop it, he allowed it. He moaned, he begged, he had a fucking orgasm in L's hand, all because of the fucking bastard. The worst part was that _Light didn't mind it._

He lost. And it didn't matter if it was his life or just this round that he lost, he just _lost._

And his masculinity went down with his pride.

Just like the billions of stupid, mindless women, Light allowed _a man _to make decisions for him.

He was no better than a woman.

A stupid, trusting_ woman. _

_...screw it. _

It was a dull Sunday afternoon, and with a roar of content the gray skies released the spell of rain onto the ever-busy roads of Tokyo.

Masses of black umbrellas hurried along the wet sidewalks, giggling schoolgirls drenched to the bone gave him odd stares and grumpy old men shoved past him, mumbling to move on faster.

The rain fall and he was probably crazy to be the only one out without a coat or an umbrella, or at least holding a bag over his head and running for the nearest shelter along with his friends, or even standing proudly in a line to the newest Ryuga Hideki movie while the merciless water ran down his soaked clothes.

Instead, all Light did was move to an indefinite gray destination where nothing in particular awaited him.

The icy droplets drummed on the nearby roofs and windows, bounced off people's umbrellas, soaked into his clothes and trailed down his shivering body; nothing on him remained dry and warm anyway.

He should probably care, but instead he just slowly stalked along the sideways, his nails blue and lips quivering from the cold.

What had he done?

He'd done a bad, bad thing.

So this, along with everything else that was to come was well-deserved, and he would take the rain. He would take whatever else L did to him.

And then...

His father. He wouldn't be able to take it.

_Air. _

Very simple and won't show up on a toxscreen. Not commonly used as a murder weapon of choice because all it would take would be a full autopsy to prove the death was unnatural.

A shot of air into the vein via syringe; air bubbles travel along with the blood flow into the heart and cause the foramen ovale to shut and heart to stop.

Embolism.

Simple as an element of surprise, confusion, two or three days before the autopsy would come back, that's all he needed to get Ryuzaki and Takada in the same place...

But no. Police weren't stupid but air would definitely not be the first thing they would look for, so he had time, precious time...

But he was wrong. Ryuzaki Rue was Ryuzaki Rue.

_And L was L_, he told himself hopelessly trying to rebuild the tiny shred of trust he had in Ryuzaki before Naomi showed up.

L was brilliant; he shot him down so effortlessly like his attempt was nothing at all, nothing...

Light turned a corner and realized he was headed towards the library where exactly a week ago his life got dragged head first into this mess. He hadn't even realized where his feet were taking him until he saw his fellow students hurrying in and out of the main building as if the speed they ran at with would influence the amount of rain they would catch; the bus-stop nearby did not have a cover at all, so no matter what they did their fate to get soaked was unavoidable.

He sucked in a long breath.

Despite his mood and the weather, it was a beautiful day and air smelled delicious. It was just a January rain after all.

The real cold would probably drop down and it will snow within the next few days.

If he'd live that long.

Light licked the tip of the liquor bottle he had unoriginally hidden in a long brown paper bag before allowing the scorching liquid flow down his throat and warm him up from the inside, if just a little.

Isn't it how it all started - with cheap booze, just around this area?

"Raito-kun!"

Was he hearing things? He didn't have that much to drink, and Ryuzaki wouldn't be stalking him, especially since the freak liked to be warm, cozy and safe in his stupid penthouse with his stupid cake...

"Raito-kun, wait up!"

"Hmm?" Lazily, Light turned around to greet none other than a drenched Ryuzaki Rue in all his shabby glory. If anything, the rain flattened that messy hair of his and his beautiful pale skin could be attributed to being soaked rather than spending his entire life without sunlight... Really, he looked lovely in the rain.

"Ryuzaki, what are you doing here?" he said whimsically, stretching his vowels in a half-lazy half-indifferent manner.

"Raito-kun is soaking wet," the man avoided.

"So are you."

Ryuzaki just looked at him with noting really to say. Light really had no words either, so instead he took another sip of his poorly-disguised liquor.

"Raito-kun should not be doing that," preached Ryuzaki.

"You shouldn't be eating all that sugar either," with an eye-roll he turned back and continued towards his unknown destination.

"I shall accompany Raito-kun so he may not hurt himself in his irresponsible state."

So silently, they walked, side by side, through a near-library park.

The drops of water disturbed the even surface of the Koi Pond and the fish darted from their hiding spot under the miniature bridge when the pair passed directly above them. The sakura alley was just as beautiful as he remembered it before the incident, though the branches stood bare – whatever decided to blossom mid-January was shaken off by the heavy rain and now the walkway was littered with pink petals bathing in pools of rainwater.

Occasional unfortunate would run though the alley, hiding the books under their clothes to avoid water damage thus be charged for a new book.

Every one of those who passed them slowed down and did not regain their pace before giving them an odd look or shuddering.

"They think we are a couple," said Ryuzaki.

"They're right, sort of."

"Would Raito-kun mind if I take his hand?"

Light turned and squinted at the odd man, as if trying to size him up.

"Okay."

So Ryuzaki took his hand.

It wasn't really awkward, rather than a gesture of affection which Light knew it wasn't, it was a gesture of comfort.

Light shivered suddenly remembering the cold and looked sideways at the drenched man without even a decent shirt on. With a huff, he offered the booze to Ryuzaki which the man politely refused.

"Would Raito-kun like to tell me what is wrong?"

With a deep sigh, Light, of all things he could have done, smiled and looked up into the weeping skies.

"Nothing's wrong Ryuzaki... No, nothing at all."

"I see."

Light went to take another swig at this point but Ryuzaki caught him at his wrist, the throat of the bottle just barely touching the tip of his tongue.

"You shouldn't," he said, dropping the 'Raito-kun'.

Light jerked his restrained hand but that earned him nothing, so he let go of Ryuzaki and tried to give his hand... well, a hand.

"Don't," Ryuzaki insisted, taking the bottle at its throat and prying it away from Light's lips. "Don't," he repeated combing his hand though the wet mass of auburn hair.

Light could feel Ryuzaki's hot breath on his face and even see the smoky vapor the warm air made in nearly-freezing temperatures of rainy January.

He loved Ryuzaki's features, he honestly did. The wild wet hair clung to his porcelain-white face probably irritating his eyes and making him squint a little. If anyone paid the man a second thought after declaring him a freak of nature, surely they'd notice his fine nose, high cheekbones and amazing eyes...

So Light kissed him, in front of his native library, both hands still hugging the liquor tightly to his own chest. Ryuzaki released it and wrapped a hand around him, pulling him close in an attempt to share their non-existent body heat…

Or just hold him.

Light dropped the bottle, grabbed Ryuzaki around his neck and let out angry tears on the man's shoulder.

The rain kept falling.

**

* * *

  
**

"Here," said Light. Of all things to be ever found in Light's shabby apartment, cookies and jellybeans wouldn't ever make the list. Nor would cake or anything funny and western Ryuzaki would call tea.

So he should really be grateful Light had a dusty can of hot chocolate powder at the back of the dried noodles shelf.

Ryuzaki took the mug without any questions though and obediently gave Light his drenched shirt and pants.

"I have no dryer," said Light simply and threw a towel and some of his own dry clothes at the shivering half-naked thing perched up on his kitchen stool. The towel landed right on top of Ryuzaki's head, and all the man did about it was rise his eyes to try to look at it and then just left it be, contently sipping at his chocolate while pulling off his underwear with one hand.

"You have to get dry..." Light emerged from his bedroom, redressed and dry-bolting his own hair.

All that changed was that Ryuzaki was wearing his sweatpants and trying to pull a shirt on while still sipping at the chocolate.

Light sighed.

Typical.

"Come here," he ordered approaching the man and gesturing to the nearby stool, and to his surprise Ryuzaki hopped into it without any objections.

"Hmm," said Light, taking the towel and patting most of the loose water away from the older man's hair, "you really never done this by yourself before, have you?"

Quiet sipping was his reply.

"Really, you're so spoiled, you know that? Very selfish, too. I bet you were that kid always hogging the swings and no one wanted to play with you."

Enough time passed for Light to lose all hope to receive any kind of reply when Ryuzaki spoke.

"We did not have swings where I grew up."

Light carefully swept the towel across his shoulders and then around his neck, collecting the water on his way. Satisfied that there was nothing dripping, he gently started rubbing at Ryuzaki's temples and then carried on to his unruly bangs.

"Really? Don't they have swings at schools for mass murderers?"

"Hmm..."

The back of Ryuzaki's head was where the hair was cut the worst. Ah well. Light put his hand on top of his head to steady him and massage circles into the scalp, carefully drying it to avoid any more tangled locks. Ryuzaki leaned back into the touch, and Light noticed in the reflection of the toaster that the man's eyes drifted shut.

"No? Well what did they have there?"

It was dry enough to be manageable and Light pulled out a comb discreetly trucked into the back of his pants. Ryuzaki tilted his head further back and the second Light sank the spikes of the brush into his hair, the man gave a little disturbed hiss. Eventually though, Light coaxed him back into a relaxed state by scraping the brush over what he assumed were sensitive spots on the man's head.

Really, he'd never seen so many knots in one head.

"Books, mostly," came Ryuzaki's delayed reply.

"Books, huh?"

The brush was deemed useless and Light tried combing it with his hands, fingernails scraping at the man's temples and thumbs drawing tiny circles at the nape of his neck...

Ryuzaki half-purred.

"You're adorable, you know that?" asked Light, lazily massaging behind the man's ears.

"And Raito-kun is drop-dead gorgeous."

"Is that all?"

The effort required to reach out and stop Light's hands was probably huge for Ryuzaki, and yet he'd done it anyway. The boy watched the pale white fingers lacing with his own and for once, he didn't really mind.

"Raito-kun is insanely smart, too."

"Oh?"

"And a little evil, but that is alright."

"Really now?"

They made it to the bed somehow and Light collapsed backwards under Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki was kissing him, but kissing him differently, not like last time at all.

Just differently. Like... like kissing him was actually important, like Light was actually important, and like what they were doing, all of it, was somehow significant in this big unfair world.

_Ryuzaki is important too_, Light figured and gently fisted the black locks and held onto Ryuzaki's shoulder as the man lifted him only to lay him back down, only shirtless.

"What?" he murmured when Ryuzaki stopped and gave him an admiring, shameless stare.

"Nothing, Raito-kun. No... nothing at all," he descended on Light's lips again, smooching at the corners at first and then all the way across his bottom lip before trailing his warm tongue down his chin and onto his neck, sucking at the pulse and then trailing lower...

Light tagged at Ryuzaki's shirt and pulled it off completely when the man stopped his assault just for that purpose.

"Nnh..." Light held onto the man's shoulder even tighter when he felt that delicious warm tongue flap into the curve of his ear and teeth scrape against the sensitive lobe. The flat of Ryuzaki's palm traveled from his neck down his chest and two fingers pinched his nipple, and Light made another tiny noise, bent his knees and let Ryuzaki settle comfortably in between.

"Oh, mm..." hot wetness engulfed his nipple and Light threw his head back and tugged at the fisted hair, "don't b-bite..."

Ryuzaki obeyed and moved on to the other one, and it was all lovely and pleasant but Light pushed him back and sat up, and before Ryuzaki gave him one of his odd questioning looks, Light took his head into his hands and kissed _him_.

"Well then," came a low chuckle and they both fell back into the sheets. A hand went around Light's waist and they were grinding against each other, their half-aroused members rubbing uncomfortably though the fabric of their clothes.

"Aah..." Ryuzaki captured that moan with his lips and pulled Light's leg around himself tighter, and Light actually bent as far as he could to not lose the position and plant a few kisses across the pale chest...

One hand left the hair and Light himself, curiously trailed one finger down Ryuzaki's upper body to the lower belly hair and then hooked it around the waistband of the man's pants and looked up. Ryuzaki smiled and took that hand with his own and guided it down into his own pants, and...

"Oh." Light's cheeks grew hot, his fingertips touching something very inappropriate.

"That was inside of you," Ryuzaki said and tipped Light's chin with his free hand and smacked the boy on the lips.

Right. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the pale shoulder.

His fingertips trailed down the hidden length and around the tip, circling the head curiously. He'd done this before. To himself though, but he'd done this. Nothing new. Carefully, he closed his first around the rapidly stiffening organ and gave it a small jerk and Ryuzaki's grip on his waist tightened.

_Like that, don't you? _

Light was getting aroused just by doing this, so Ryuzaki took the initiative to remove their remaining clothes, careful not to disturb Light's hand too much.

By this point though, Light got brave and was pumping the man at a steady, slow rhythm. Ryuzaki's erection was standing and Light thought he could get away with it until Ryuzaki bucked his hips into his hand, tiny droplets of pre-cum sipping though the slit already.

Hot.

Actually, it'll be a lot easier if...

Nope, no such luck.

He was suddenly grabbed by the waist and tossed onto his back, his hand losing contact with Ryuzaki and his legs bent in a way that gave the man now on top of him a rather inappropriate view.

Maybe it was the alcohol that still hadn't left his system, but Light was blushing again. He hadn't realized just how aroused he was; his skin was flushed, hot and sweaty and his neglected erection was complete and throbbing. No wonder Ryuzaki wanted...

"Hnn!" oh yes, damn that bastard for knowing Light's body... Cold fingers gently massaged his sack as the other hand grabbed tightly at the base, both stopping the _very important _blood flow and making him arch his back in painful pleasure.

"Ahh..."

"Lubricant?"

"T-table..."

Light lifted his head to see what was happening and he watched the tube of lube pulled out of the bedside drawer and generously squirt its contents into Ryuzaki's palm.

"Nnn..." he flinched when the cool finger traced the circle of his puckered entrance... Ryuzaki leaned in to kiss him and Light willingly parted his lips to allow entrance of his tongue just when the finger slipped inside of him, slowly...

It was always an odd feeling; a feeling of 'that doesn't belong there', but right after the initial intrusion it was fine, just because Ryuzaki did it in a massage-like manner rather than anything else.

Light relaxed enough for the second and third fingers to enter him, at the same time...

"Ow, hnnn," he both complained and moaned as he was almost painfully stretched on the inside and jerked off particularly hard.

In, out, expanding, stretching, oh that was definitely a bad place to do it in... oh, that, ahh...

"Is it alright yet?" Ryuzaki huskily whispered into Light's ear, impatient. Light tangled his fingers into the black locks and waited a little more before giving him the go-ahead.

The digits that were warmed up by his insides a little drew out and Ryuzaki prodded the hard, silky head of his member right at his entrance.

"Ready?" he asked, and Light was sure he felt pre-cum caress his opened entrance and tickle down...

Light grabbed onto the man's shoulders furiously and nodded, and just as Ryuzaki was about to thrust into him, he whispered, "slow, please..." and buried his head into the cold shoulder in anticipation.

"...alright," was all the man said.

It probably took him all the self-restraint he was capable of to enter Light slowly instead of in one hard thrust, but Ryuzaki did what Light asked.

"Oooh..." Light screwed his eyes shut and sank his teeth into Ryuzaki's shoulder. That still fucking... hurt... Slow, burning pain shot up his spine, and all he really could do was take it and try- try his best not to clench his inner muscles against the enormous intrusion... It started to burn.

"Tight..." hissed Ryuzaki, slowly sinking into him.

Shit, he was wrong. A quick thrust was much better, oww... Ryuzaki passed the first ring of muscles, but the friction was still hot and there was a much longer way to go. He tried to contain the noises of pain but he really, really couldn't.

He let out a tiny squeal and Ryuzaki stopped inside of him altogether, jerking him off in the most pleasurable way, but that blocked no pain.

"Your lubricant sucks," he said, half groaning.

"It's... for _girls_..."

A chuckle, a kiss, a hard jerk.

"Want me to pull... out and... work you open some... more?"

"It's fine," Light held onto the man on top of him tighter, "it's going away now."

Half-lie, but it was getting better.

A few moments of adjusting and Ryuzaki thrust in completely in one sudden push, and all Light did was yelp in surprise.

"It's better... this way… yes?"

"But I thought..."

"Shh..."

And it was on again, and Ryuzaki pulled out no more then an inch and then squeezed back in between his tight walls slowly, and as soon as Light adjusted to that, the bastard changed the angle...

"Ah!"

"That's right."

In, out, on with it, deeper, deeper, faster...

"Haa… ahh… Nnn!" Light dug his fingernails into Ryuzaki's back, drawing blood as the man's member grinded against his prostate in the most agonizingly pleasing way...

"Ahh... y-yes..."

"More?"

"Y-ye.."

White liquid was trailing down Ryuzaki's hand as he stroked and pumped Light at a faster phase, and god damn him if Light would beg...

It was... too slow, too shallow, he arched his back and let go of Ryuzaki's back only to twist in the sheets and grab at the pillow behind his head.

It was too wonderful, too much...

"Hnn," groaned the man on top of him and grabbed his hips, lifted and slammed into him hard.

"F-fuck-"

At this rate, he was going to... now...

"R-ryu—ah, I'm go-"

"It's... okay, come... it's al-alright..." came a broken whisper from somewhere above and his head was being petted and kissed soothingly...

Fireworks burst in front of Light's eyes and he exploded at the peak of his orgasm, spilling hot semen onto Ryuzaki's hand and stomach. He collapsed back into the sheets and felt Ryuzaki give a few more uneven thrusts and a hot stream of liquid shot into him angrily...

Ryuzaki collapsed on top of him, somehow managing to keep most of his weight off Light to allow breathing room that they both desperately needed.

"…wow," panted Light.

"Yes," said Ryuzaki.

It took a few minutes for Light to realize Ryuzaki was still inside of him, his member slowly softening but not quite fast enough to keep the dull pain from coming back.

"Hmm," Light nudged him with his knee, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Not yet," Ryuzaki said, moving sideways but still keeping them joined.

"What, again?"

"Yes again, unless-"

"No, okay," Light interrupted, pulling up as much as he could, but Ryuzaki caught him around the waist and rolled them so that he was straddling the man.

"Cowgirl-style?" he raised an eyebrow, still lying on top of Ryuzaki rather then getting up. He was sort of tired.

"I'll help you," said Ryuzaki and sat up and Light hissed at the sudden angle change.

"Hang on," he ordered and Light obeyed since the bastard probably knew better anyway, god damn him, and then he realized he was impaled on Ryuzaki's member. It felt a lot different then just lying down, and the whole notion was getting him hard again, and Ryuzaki's hand that was caressing his member didn't really help...

Oh.

And oh again.

"H-hey, why..."

"Because I'm not… back up yet. I'm …softer and smaller... is this better?"

"Mmm... yes, a lot...oh."

"Good, I'll keep this in mind," Ryuzaki smirked and lifted him up and brought him back down, his member hardening right inside Light, his passage stretched already and slickened by the spilled semen.

Light really didn't do anything, just sat there and tried to help as much as he could because in theory, this was the position where he would take control, but really he was tired, and Ryuzaki was doing a damn good job of angling his hips so that that sweet bundle of nerves would be hit every one of those times, and before long the room was filled with tiny moans and cracking of Light's cheap mattress.

Their phase sped up and he threw his head back, shameless moans escaping his gaping mouth, pleasure high and this time neither lasted long.

Light screamed in ecstasy as Ryuzaki's seed shot right against his prostate and came himself, collapsing to the side.

When the man finally pulled out of him, it felt off and a little empty. Semen that had nowhere else to go sipped out of him, tickled down his thighs and made a lovely pool in the middle of his sheets.

Exhausted, his head lolled to the side towards where Ryuzaki was still panting.

Poor thing, did all that by himself...

"H-hey..!" he managed tiredly, not able to raise his volume very high, "what are you doing?" he bucked out of the invading fingers that were pushing inside of him again.

"Hey, what? I can't, go away..."

Hours turned into days.

* * *

"Yeah, but bullet train? You, seriously?"

Ryuzaki said nothing and shuffled his old tennis shoe-clad feet though the parting masses as people stepped aside to let him pass, and stared. Light shrugged and followed.

Ryuzaki looked sour, just like he'd looked that morning after Light refused to take the tea the man offered him, mostly because he saw him dump about half a pound of sugar into the cup. Light rejected the tea, Ryuzaki took it as a rejection of his efforts. The sour look had yet to leave the man's face.

In other words, despite his expectations of what Ryuzaki might behave like in public, Ryuzaki acted pretty normal, that is normal for being Ryuzaki. He shuffled, rolled his eyes and stared at peculiar people as they passed and they in turn stared at him, and as far as conversations with strangers went Ryuzaki was civil.

Light imagined that if he could convince the bastard to rethink his wardrobe and reacquaint him with a hairbrush, he could very well take him to any public place and pass him up as a normal non-sugar dependant respectable person who wore shoes on regular basis.

"_Oh! You-!"_ a blonde overdressed American woman saw Ryuzaki and out of two-hundred something other people on the station, she apparently figured a sleep-deprived hermit-man in old, worn jeans would be able to help her better than anyone else, so she left her confused blonde gangster-looking partner to deal with the conductor he was trying to question, "…anata-_something… you… uh… _shinkansen?" she said hopefully.

Ryuzaki didn't even blink.

"_This is a bullet train station,"_ he said in British English, _"Which train do you need?"_

"_The Yamata one."_

"_The Yamagata train. You are at the wrong station."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Go upstairs and left. Ask at the JR counter, they can help you."_

And Ryuzaki disappeared into the crowd before the woman could ask anything else, and it took Light a full minute to find him near a sweets bar.

"You're British," Light said after Ryuzaki acknowledged his existence and went back to stare at cutely-shaped cream-puffs.

"Yes," he dismissed and gave the counter girl a look that said she should reach for the box, no, he wouldn't like a bag. "That one, and that one, and the orange one too. And that square one for my friend."

"I don't want one."

"And that square one of myself, then."

"Jerk."

A few animal-shaped palm-sized cream cookies after, Ryuzaki pulled out a few notes from his back pocket and gave them to the girl, shoved change into the same pocket and shuffled on towards the trains.

"You don't even carry a wallet."

"Indeed," he said and pulled out his first cookie. They walked in silence, Ryuzaki somehow miraculously slipping though people without having the sweet knocked out of his hand, and Light thought that would be the end of their conversation until realized what the bastard _did_.

"You rented a _train_?" he hissed.

"Just a compartment, Raito-kun. There is no need to worry, this train is still a public one," and Light realized the bastard actually wanted to _buy _the damn train, but Watari probably stopped him.

"You're unbelievable-!" but before he could go on, Ryuzaki grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him inside of the rented train.

"Damn you!" he groaned at the empty _wagon_, "Honestly, who do you think you are?"

"Ryuzaki Rue."

"Right," Light rolled his eyes and purposely sat two rows away from the damn bastard, and Ryuzaki didn't look like he minded.

Fine, if that's the way it was than _fine._

Light folded his arms across his chest and grit his teeth.

_Whatever, fuck him. _

They were on a Nazomi train, and if it was in fact still a public train, Nazomi trains only did major stops, which meant they were not going to Odawara or Otami because the first major stop of a Nazomi train was Shizuoka, and Shizuoka was a hellofa way away from Chiba or Tokyo for that matter. Light was getting anxious, and the train hadn't even left yet.

He should've really told somebody where he was going, especially who he was going with. If he would turn up dead in Shizuoka tomorrow, at least they'd realize Ryuzaki was L.

Or wasn't.

"Ryuzaki, where are we going?" he said for the nth time that morning trying to sound annoyed rather than slightly nervous.

A conductor came in, wished them a good trip and left with a promise of food and sweets should they want any. The train left the station.

Light was still waiting for his answer for good ten minutes of quiet munching.

"I was born in London," Ryuzaki told him warily as if he was afraid that Light would take his words and stab him with them.

Light understood.

"I accidentally killed our pet cat," Light said over the distance between them, "Dad never figured out it was me."

The sounds of sugar being crushed between teeth bounced off the train walls.

"I lived at an orphanage."

"I accidentally killed Sayu's gerbil, too."

"Raito-kun isn't very good with pets, is he?"

"It's your turn," Light demanded.

"I am significantly older than Raito-kun."

"By how much?"

"I will not tell."

"Alright. I slept with my student-teacher."

Ryuzaki tried to hide his snickering by wolfing down another cookie.

"Shut up, she was hot."

"I have a nasty habit of sleeping with my associates."

"No shit," Light rolled his eyes and Ryuzaki leaned over a row of seats and offered him a cookie, "you aren't doing Matsuda, are you?"

"No."

"Well, good. I... once, I had four girlfriends. Don't ask how I got out of that one."

"With evil wit, no doubt."

Light laughed.

"I am afraid of... hmm, I am afraid of pens. They have a tendency to stab me if they reside in Raito-kun's hand."

Light considered this for a few moments, and the mood in the cabin dropped. Ryuzaki purposely led him to this. He sighed.

"I am terrified of L," he confessed.

"I know," said Ryuzaki quietly and started on Light's square cake piece.

"Are _you_ L?"

"No," the words came from between the cake and Light believed him.

"Then what's this all about?"

"Raito-kun needs spiritual cleansing, and since he refuses to see a therapist regarding his predicament with L, he left me with no alternatives but to take him to Chugoku."

Light choked on air.

"_To Chugoku_?!! That's across the country! _Literally_ across the country! Are you crazy?"

"I appreciate Japan's technology. It will take under five hours to get to Chugoku and two to get to our destination."

"What the hell is in Chugoku that isn't in Kanto?"

"Spiritual cleansing."

Before Ryuzaki could do anything about it, Light hopped the tall rows of plush chairs and implanted this fist into Ryuzaki's plush _face._ His knuckles connected to the bony cheek with a dull crunch, and if it wasn't for the faint whistling of the bullet train slicing though air, Light would've compared the weight of the air to lead. Ryuzaki's head smacked against the headrest and recoiled.

All stilled and the unblinking stare of round eyes made the illusion of the still time even more credible; Light had to withdraw his arm slowly just to reassure himself that the space and time didn't cave in on him.

Ryuzaki's tender cheek lit up like a stop sign and Light's knuckles reddened as well.

"Raito-kun has hit me," Ryuzaki deadpanned in disbelief and Light blinked in disbelief as well.

He _had_ hit the bastard, and it wasn't like stabbing him with a pen on throwing insults, it was like throwing a punch and hitting the mark, and the delicious pain in his knuckles was nothing compared to the realization that he _hurt _Ryuzaki, totally unprovoked.

He dared to smack him in the face, and it wasn't a girly smack either but a full-blown punch of the serving hand of a trained teensiest. Ryuzaki's face must be burning, and the sadistic note somewhere in Light's lower gut quivered at the pleasant thought.

He wanted to hit him again, and he didn't really care if there was or wasn't a real reason for it, he just wanted...

When Light blinked and opened his eyes again, Ryuzaki wasn't splattered in his seat anymore and a foot that came seemingly out of nowhere sent him tripping backwards. His back hit the armrest but the isles were wide and he didn't split his head on chair. For a few moments, Light just lay with his head rested uncomfortably against the iron fixture of a seat and wondered just how much of _this_ they could do without leaving visible damage or killing each other.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a red smudge on his otherwise crisp dress shirt and stared up from the ground at Ryuzaki who now hovered over him in fake concern.

The bastard knew exactly how much force he'd put in that kick, so it was fair game. Light made a gesture for Ryuzaki to help him up, successfully got him distracted, and the delicious smack of his closed fist against Ryuzaki's soft belly sent the man flying backwards.

He was up on his feet before the black and white blur even connected to the ground and was charging forward. But what Ryuzaki did was the weirdest, most hilarious thing Light'd ever seen a grown man do. He caught himself with an arm, flipped backwards and on his side somehow using his feet and ended up in a purely animalistic position on the ground, something that looked like a three-legged sumo wrestler but much more... dangerous, cat-like.

"What- the hell- is_ that_?" Light said, panting. The thing looked so _stupid _that Light even stopped and wiped the blood oozing from his split lip with his sleeve instead of kicking the man.

"Capoeira," Ryuzaki deadpanned evenly and suddenly he wasn't on the ground anymore, and again Light caught a mouthful of foot.

_Fucking... fast..._

Light aimed to sack, but Ryuzaki cleverly avoided Light's knee and the man's hip let out a rather crunchy cry.

Ryuzaki jumped a few feet back and with another idiotic ballerina-like manoeuvre knocked the air out of Light's chest.

"Eye for an eye, Raito-kun."

"Right," Light caught his breath and went for Ryuzaki's kneecaps.

---

Light never said a word as the rather expensive car with a foreign mark he couldn't recognize and a price tag he couldn't image drove though less populated and more rural parts of Japan, and Ryuzaki couldn't be bothered to start a conversation.

He'd never been to Chugoku.

No, he never wanted to go.

When they arrived to a place that looked so old and empty that people here looked old and empty too, Light was eager to leave the car only by so much.

The town of Tsuwano was somewhere god-knows-where in Chugoku. It was small and old and the air of the town was _stale_ with old.

"Ryuzaki-"

"Raito-kun shouldn't worry. We can go for lunch later, for now I'd like him to confess on an empty stomach."

Light nearly froze.

_Ryuzaki couldn't know, he..._

"Confess?"

"Yes, it's close by now. I was afraid to get discouraged by Raito-kun's excuses should I have told him sooner," Ryuzaki made a face.

"...I'm still listening."

They were walking though lightly wooded areas on a cemented path, and Light imagined that if they'd come there any later, it would be too dark to see much.

"I... have a very good acquaintance. This... acquaintance of mine is a good catholic."

"You have a catholic friend."

"Of sorts. He and I travel a lot, and occasionally we would run into each other, and... Raito-kun needs to understand this; he is a very good catholic. Confessing sinful deeds and thoughts and such. I will dismiss the fact that he confesses same sinful deeds and thoughts to his therapist, but for the sake of Raito-kun's sanity, I decided to take his approach on the matter. He told me on numerous occasions that confessing to a priest is spiritually healing."

"You don't even know what 'spiritual' means."

"I won't say that I do, but for the sake of his sanity and mine, Raito-kun will go to the priest and confess to him. Disguise L as a school rival if you will. Tell the priest you are afraid."

"Seriously."

"Yes. My good catholic acquaintance insists this helps."

"Are you sleeping with this good catholic friend of yours?"

Ryuzaki visibly cringed, his eye twitched lightly and his lips curled inward.

"Absolutely _not_," he muttered, apparently horrified by the notion and Light figured this was as truthful as Ryuzaki would ever get.

"Here."

"This is the only place in whole Japan that he will go to."

Light didn't protest. He'd given up any attempts to talk reason into Ryuzaki after the _tea._ There were churches and other such establishments _closer_, but if Ryuzaki wanted to drag him around churches in the middle of forests in some old town of Nowhere, to hell with him.

"Ryuzaki, _for this_, you're smothering me with loving care tonight," he ordered.

"Make sure you confess those sinful thoughts also, Raito-kun."

The Chapel of Saint Maria was a tiny, old structure and it fit well with the whole aura of the town. It was secluded and inviting as Light supposed churches should be, and though the smell of old wood and lightly peeling paint did nothing in any way to amplify the glory of Saint Maria or her Chapel, it felt godly and peaceful nerveless. Something holy and spirited lurked in the bushes and even the priest who looked like he had nothing to do with the chapel looked almost blessed.

When Light looked behind to find no Ryuzaki trailing him, he felt odd. He was alone in the quickly darkening clearing in the middle of very fine forest, with a man he knew nothing of but was supposed to trust, and his last link to home, busy and overcrowded home _world,_ hid away somewhere between the young trees.

Light did not understand why of all questions he could've asked Ryuzaki, a question of 'well, how exactly am I supposed to do this' never popped up.

It was just so awkward and despite having no respect for religion whatsoever the eyes of the old priest compelled him to come towards the chapel.

Light didn't know what to do.

"Hello, son," the man said and Light felt so overwhelmed he had to look away. He didn't understand it, none of it. He stared at the ground.

"Hello, father," Light muttered to the ground. For the first time in his life he couldn't gather himself to charm a person, and it was because this person was the priest. Light was never a moral person and if he could be his own judge, he'd even put himself in terms of a righteous man with morals that of above common folk's understanding.

"You have never done this before, have you, son?" the priest laughed pleasantly and Light became even more disturbed and uncomfortable.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned," Light rattled to the ground again, and the priest laughed again, this time with a note of preaching.

"Go on, son," he said, apparently giving up on getting Light to do this formally.

He should've prepared for this, god damn Ryuzaki for not telling him until last possible second. _Damn him. _

"I have sinful thoughts of torturing my best friend," Light told the ground.

The priest preached the common load of love-thy-neighbor bull.

Light told him he was afraid.

Priest told him that God was with him.

That didn't help.

Light told him he'd used people.

What priest told him on that matter didn't help any, either.

So Light told him he was having an affair with a person he really shouldn't be having an affair with.

The priest told him to seek forgiveness from all those he had wronged with doing so.

Light told him that the person he wronged most was the person he was having an affair with.

The priest said nothing.

Light told him the reason he started having an affair with this person. He wanted to take this person down.

The priest told him to come clean.

Light said that the person already knew this.

"She is forgiving, son," said the priest. "You are blessed to be loved by her. You must put more faith into God and people, her heart is good."

Okay, so maybe Light did lie a little bit.

"So I should trust her?"

"You should put your faith into the Lord, my son. Put your faith into the Lord and His children."

And it was there inside of a small Chapel with six benches and an old wooden altar that Light realized he trusted Ryuzaki completely.

He didn't know what happened when the priest left him alone inside to pray. The polished wood of the altar panel shone dimly in artificial light and the rough stained mosaic windows played with color along the white walls as the sun set.

Delicate sounds of the forest worrying over wind rustled though the floor and light steps of the bribed priest echoed in the distance.

For at least half an hour or so, there was nothing. Light was nowhere where nothing existed and all minds of all people were poured into a viscous mass on incoherent thoughts, and Light was aware of every one of them, thousands, millions, all worrying and thinking and worrying and thinking. There were good people, and there were bad ones, and though Light didn't see them, he heard their minds. Nameless, faceless, they uttered profanities and evils and Light learned their awful intentions, if only for a few precious minutes. They were evil; he could judge them because he could hear their evil minds.

Light felt like God.


	10. The Sugar

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, send all your pox germs to me so I don't have to write my three midterms, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important  
**

**CH10**

**The Sugar**

"Hello? L? I-is that you?" Light nearly pleaded thought the damp darkness, and L purposely allowed his breathing to become more rapid and audible so the boy would hear what direction L was coming from and back away.

The bathroom smelled faintly of mold, and L's ears perked in delight when he heard the only rightful resident of the bathroom make noises of panic when he nearly backed into the half-full tub.

"L-l?" the deep breaths became uneven and the small noises of palms slapping against tile became hysteric. L stilled and held his breath, then quietly maneuvered behind the boy and the only sounds in the tiny bathroom were Light's frantic breathing and his slow advances towards the door.

When the sliver of light sipping though the cracks of the closed door was closer than L would've liked it to and Light's hysteria subsided, he hovered over where he'd seen the faintest outline of Light's body and let out a long hiss.

Light yelped and bolted towards the door, but L caught the hem of his pants and slammed his side against the tile, and the tremble of the impact knocked off some toiletries from Light's sink.

Hysteric gasps fanned L's face and resistance he met when he grabbed silky wrists was the same as if Light was fighting for his life.

Exiting.

L shook the boy and slammed him against the tile again, and whether it was the cheap tiles or his own force, a few tile chunks rained from the wall.

Light whimpered deliciously and became momentarily confused, his wrists slacked in L's tight grip and L had to pin the boy to the wall with his body or else he would slide down.

His body... Light's body trembled and radiated heat and L blamed himself for not allowing the pretty thing enough time to undress and get into the tub.

"L?" Light muttered in desperation.

"Liiight," L hissed into the warm ear and released a wrist to pull the boy up by waist.

Light sighed in relief and carefully, the free wrist wrapped around his neck and discreetly tucked his hair for confirmation.

"It is you," he muttered gently in an effort not to aggravate L further, "you didn't need to do that". His silky voice still trembled and the force he had in it faltered, and L let go the other wrist to lean them against the wall only to find some oily liquid on the tiles. The soft hair at the back of Light's head was also wet and oily and L supposed a few more slams like that and he'll knock the boy out-cold.

He really had to count them, he figured.

Voice still shaking slightly, Light offered, "I was about to take a bath, c-care to join me?"

L said nothing and allowed his fingers to travel along the sweet curve of Light's jaw and collarbone, across the clothed chest and over the small bump in his pants. Light draped his other hand across L's shoulders, and L patted the harness with the back of his hand.

"Hmm," said Light.

What was he expecting?

L specifically pressed his hip painfully hard to Light's sex and grabbed his throat. The poor naïve thing said nothing until it started to choke, and then the hands came off his shoulders and he, still gently, tired to push L off.

"L, stop that," he hissed and L wrapped his fingers around the pulsating throat harder, and nails dug into the back of his hand and delicious vibrations and faint screaming they caused made L's own member twitch.

Light wasn't in the weak and pathetic caliber, no, and L watched out for those long legs, but other than that it was too easy.

The clawing at his hands became more erratic and L loved it, and he leaned in and kissed the breathless lips, and Light nearly bit him.

Little twit.

L chucked the boy to the floor.

Two.

The darkness was black and obsolete and L could see nothing, just like little Light, and the difference between them was that L could hear and recognize noises for actions, and Light could not. So he waited patiently when the thing on the floor regained his senses, pawed around and picked up a toiled brush.

Disgusting.

"I would put that down, or _I_ will get creative with _where_ I will put it."

Light squealed and dropped it, and picked up a tile shard instead.

_That will help you_, L thought critically. He leaped at the boy and the armed hand sent the shard aiming for L's face but L caught the hand with the tile and squeezed. The sharp tbit cut into the soft palm and shattered, and all of those but into the soft palm, and Light screamed and a few drops of blood hit the floor.

Light kicked and slapped and crawled and bit, and L decided to skip the whole ordeal to the good part.

Buttons went flying and fabric tore, and just to keep the boy entertained, L pulled on hair and twisted fingers while he was at it.

Light thought L was going to kill him.

"Get up," he ordered and when the boy stood naked and bruised and cut by the smashed tile, L really wished he could turn the light on and admire his body.

Stupid thing.

As if his tiny steps and held breaths told L nothing about his plans of bolting, so L waited until he did, and when he did, he just grabbed him by the bloody hair and tossed him into the general direction of the bathtub.

The bangs and splashes told L that that one should count for two, so that made four very hard blows.

_No more_, he ordered himself when he realized Light was drowning in the half-full bathtub. _Definitely no more. _

He fished the boy out of the hot water and recognized the tub was still filling, switched the knob to shower-mode and made sure Light was sitting and not face down in the water, and casually took off his own clothes. By this time, Light would regain parts of his cautiousness.

"Can you hear me?" L said, stepping into the tub and leaning over the confused person. Light made a positive noise and L figured he shouldn't push it with orders and pulled the wet body up and leaned him against the cold tile so that he was in direct spray of the water.

Light pushed him away weakly, and L slapped him. No response.

_We'll see about that. _

He spun the boy around and with no preparation of himself of the tiny puckered entrance, slammed inside. Light screamed and his tight, raw passage clamed down.

_Very tight._ L would decide if he liked it or not later.

The dry and hot passage and so tight L groaned and almost wished he stretched it out before diving in. It bordered pain for him, and he was sure Light was in hell.

Without a pause, he pulled out and sunk his thick, erect member back in, and Light screamed again, and then he screamed again, and again, and his screaming faded and all there was to hear in the darkness of the demolished bathroom was water spilling over the edges of the tub, the hissing of shower and soft, dry rhythmic noises and L's occasional groan.

**

* * *

  
**

Japanese and overall Asian sweets were substantially different from western sweets L was used to and _liked._

Because sugar farmers in Asia were so high-maintenance and consumed most of the sugar they grew (as well as constantly went on strikes), sugar in sweets was deficient and substituted with gross things like red beans. After his first visit to Japan and being beastily acquainted with sweet ricecake soup, L realized his luck of being raised in a country where sugar farmers weren't lazy.

"Ryuzaki, are you listening?"

"Yes Raito-kun, it is not surprising that two more members of Yotsuba were found dead; Yotsuba-L must have gotten fired."

Though L had no particular care for crumpets, he had really grown to appreciate those as an enormous cultural part of his British upbringing and overall cultural _tradition_.

"Ryuzaki!"

"Yes, Raito-kun."

This_ traditional_ Red Bean paste thing that Matsuda dragged in, however... It looked like it was made from red beans.

"_Ryuzaki!"_

Gross.

"Leave him alone Raito, he's just a little overwhelmed by all the death..."

In fact, it looked so unappealing... Bleh.

L turned his stare to Light who looked far more appealing than the Red Bean paste thing that was probably made from red beans.

"You look like a kicked puppy, Ryuzaki. Knock it off."

"It is because I feel little overwhelmed by all the death."

"You are_ so_ not overwhelmed by all the death."

"Boys!"

"My apologies, Yagami-san. Because two Yotsuba executives have turned up dead within the last 12 hours as per L's written promise, I believe it is best to let the nature take its course; if they are smart, the rest boarded their private jets and are on their way to Jamaica."

Light was so pretty when he was angry, it was almost like after having sex with him: at both instances a few strands of his pretty hair would always be out of place, his eyes narrow, cheeks rosy and lips puffed.

L particularly liked when the boy had that angry blush because it was just so adorably out of character... And stark necked and blushing, Light would bring him truffles and milk, and L would eat them.

"However, I do not believe it is L that is currently hunting Yotsuba."

"Yeah. It looks like Yotsuba-L has turned on Yotsuba."

"That's probably it," chief signed in a manner that reminded L of Watari sighing when L would turn down his vitamin shake, "the guy is professional though, very much so, it almost seems as if... he isn't worse than L himself. We- we should consider ourselves very lucky."

Vitamin shakes were disgusting, but Watari always preached how if L were to continue on his highway to diabetes, he would at least have to have vitamins so his body could support him.

Boring.

One minty candy or ten, they were still minty candies and as far as L was ever concerned, minty candies never killed anyone unless someone was stupid enough to consume the entire box along with candies.

L wasn't stupid at all, though people tended to think he was stupid when in came to sweets, he wasn't. L ate his entire box of minties one at a time to avoid choking.

"We can't just leave it alone until he's finished with Yotsuba though. We have to catch him... somehow."

_Well good luck with that, Matsuda!_

L mentally noted that if Matsuda caught 'Yotsuba-L' (as they called him), he'd give him a congratulatory minty.

One of the problems was that L had only one minty left, and hastily calculating the probabilities of Matsuda catching 'Yotsuba-L', L just ate his last minty himself.

_Let's change the prize to a toffee_, just in case somehow Matsuda manages to defy the concept of a zero percent chance.

L still had four toffees left, after all... well, three do fill the cavity of his mouth perfectly to still allow room for chewing, so technically, he had one truffle to give to Matsuda should he catch 'Yotsuba-L'...

"How are we going to do that? No evidence, no nothing... it's the same as catching death by old age."

"Well... we could always find one of Yotsuba members and wait until Y-L shows up..."

L ate the last toffee as well, since if that idea worked and Matsuda did win the toffee... Blimey he wouldn't very well claim it since he'd be dead.

Death this, death that...

Couldn't these people just sit back, have their tea, have that red bean paste thing that stood untouched in front of L like its dietary value was that of a rock, smoke a baccy maybe (Yagami-san and Mogi looked like they would enjoy that) and talk about literature and Chinese porcelain?

Death, dying, dead people... obsession with death is disturbing everywhere L went and whenever death was brought up.

Death, death, death...

When a member of the taskforce even hinted at death, L just wanted to shake him.

It was sort of like the urge he had every time he saw a SmartCar: when L saw a SmartCar, he wanted to run up to it and tilt it.

Even throw candy wrappers.

That's how annoyed it made him.

He always wondered what would happen if in the middle of their conversation about death, L would unhunch his back, calmly arise from his chair, pull out a Beretta from his pant leg, and shoot somebody square between the eyes. That would give them death to talk about.

Why hadn't he done that yet?

With what he assumed was a deep thinking expression, L hugged his knees so that the palms of his hands would press sharply into two cold hunks of metal strapped to his ankles. Right now he wanted nothing more than to trace them with his long fingers, feel every curve, every line, every imperfection that made the guns so beautifully perfect, yes, pull them out and lay them out facing walls, symmetrically, almost like wings spread out... Take out every bullet and lay them out side by side in a perfect, dashed line and steady them as their cylindrical body tried to escape L's fingers and roll away. Oh how many times had he disembodied those guns, sometimes still loaded just to savor the idea that at any given moment they may go off, and just as slowly and carefully, he would put them back together, piece by piece, suppressing the urge of to just put the sons of bitches together and _shoot something..._

Fuck the guns, fuck the damn investigation team that was about as useful in investigating as the cleaning crew... if they would all just get the fuck out, he'd grab Light, bend him over and make him scream and plead, he'd tair him apart just as he would with his beloved guns, trace his curves and lines and imperfections, penetrate him in a way that would make him his, his own, nobody else's, not even an entity, just L's, only L's...

Oh, just imagine the expression on the boy's face if right now L were to calmly arise from his chair, pull out a Beretta from his pant leg, and shoot _everybody _square between the eyes. Those beautiful chocolate eyes would widen in horror and his mouth would make a little 'o' and his hands would go helplessly limp as everyone around him collapses. But he wouldn't panic just yet, no he wouldn't, he would stand there, rooted with fear to the ground, eyes locked with the single eye of the shiny pistol staring straight at him, just inches away, awaiting death... but death wouldn't come yet, instead would come a command, and Light would obey because his mind would be blinded by white horror... and after, and only after would those gorgeous eyes fill with hysteria and panic because he would realize that after L was done, he would embrace the his silver friend with his fingers yet again and press it to the boy's temple, and skill naked and half-erect, Yagami Light would cease his existence...

Saturday at 9, the time L made a promise to Light to kill him, damn it, he should have done that as soon as they got to the headquarters, all those times after they got to the headquarters, should have, hell, 9PM was behind the dumpster when Mello had fun with his little siege; L should've killed Yagami Light _then_... except he woke up next to the boy that morning, just like all those other mornings, he wanted nothing more than to make him coffee and stroke his beautiful hair and smell his own semen all over that beautiful body, morning after morning...

"Have any of you gentlemen had breakfast yet?"

"Ryuzaki, it's four in the afternoon."

"Splendid, let us go to the western-style pancake house across the street, thank you for your treat, Matsuda-san."

"Pancakes!... Hey, wait -"

Thank sugary gods Japan imported sugar to compensate for their lazy sugar-farmers and dehydrated sugar trees.

--

"I'm very sorry you have to do this, Yagami-kun," said the chubby female officer Light and L were following though the maze of the morgue's basement. "Her... family refuses to claim or even ID the body. Poor girl. No matter what she's done, they should at least burry her with respect..."

The woman blabbered and Light walked beside her, looking pale, and L shuffled behind him savoring a pineapple-flavored sucker. At first, the woman had given him a look that said he should get rid of it,_ 'he was about to see a dead body'_, but L suggested that he wasn't going to poke Takada with the lollipop and then put it back in his mouth because that wouldn't be sterile. She sized him up and gave in, allowing him to trail behind as she escorted Light to the cooling room for Takada's ID.

"It's... _nic_e of your... _friend_ to come along," she chipped in an improperly executed compassion, and Light just nodded, hanging his head in mild, fake despair.

Liar, liar.

Light was a liar.

An ace. An actor.

_A masochist. _

L was shagging a masochist. Mello'll bite his arm off.

The masochist was pale and nauseous as soon as Yagami-san informed him he'll ID Takada, and the lying twit looked as remorseful as an angel.

Liar.

From the second he heard about Takada's untimely death, Light lied his pretty face off; _'Kyomi? Oh, really? I can't believe it. Did she?_' The boy knew something.

So L kindly volunteered Watari to escort _them_. When Light tired to convince L he had no reason to come with, he figured he really, _really_ knew something. Goody.

Light walked, and with every clack if his dress shoes against stone floors of the morgue, he seemed more composed as well more did he look like he was going for no more than an ID. He leeched the woman's sympathy and warped it into his own image of no-more-than-concerned-ex.

_Aha._ So what he needed to lie was people convincing him his lie was true.

_What to do, oh what to do._

L's lollipop was almost up, and he wondered if the morgue sold sweets.

"Do you sell cake in this building," he said implying that the woman should tell him _where_ they sell cake in this building. Of course they didn't.

The woman gawked at him in amazement, and Light stilled in his tracks, looking as guilty as he did before the woman's cooing.

Too easy.

"We should hurry and see Kyomi," Light ignored L's existence and pretended L did not just ask the most self-centered question he possibly could.

"But Raito-kun! Takada-san will be still there when my sugar supply runs out!" L thrust an almost naked stick in front of Light's face so the boy could understand the problem.

Light seeped the air though his brilliant white teeth, straightened up his back and continued walking like a goose while the woman explained to L that they did not sell cake in the morgue.

Ah well, cakeless L did his job at least. Light looked ready to barf.

"This way," said the woman when they reached the end of the long, narrow hall and held the metal refrigerator-like door ajar for them to enter. Metallic cells arranged in a grid-like pattern chilled the cool room with their dead stainless-steal doors.

Curiously, L turned to look at his better half. Surely he realized behind each of these metallic flaps was a dead person?

Yes, yes he did.

L bit hard into his thumb to avoid snickering.

The woman approached one of the death cells and L observed Light as his eyes widened slightly and he paled even further. To him, things were going mighty slow and every second was agony... L wondered how he could stall the process even further, but that wasn't necessary.

The woman pulled out the rack and undid the death blanket. The girl on the metal tray was beautiful, her cropped hair framed her sharp face and all that really spoiled the lovely image was the bullet crack in the dead-center of her forehead.

Light nodded and closed his eyes, sorrow overwhelming his features just like it should.

As they exited the temporary cemetery, Light politely excused himself to the bathroom looking as sick as ever and the woman told him not to wander and wait for his friend, instead L spied.

Light was definitely puking in there, and L did not disturb him.

Five minutes later as he emerged with very fine trail of acid on his breath, and just for a faint second Light had an odd look on his face. _Remorse_. Genuine remorse. And guilt. As quickly as he spotted Ryuzaki, regret overwhelmed his face, as genuine-looking as they would, but fake.

"We should go," he muttered quietly and L strolled to the right of him.

Remorse, huh.

L mused over the idea of Light mind-controlling his psychotic ex to kill a load of people, and ultimately target L.

_Kira, Kira, is that you hiding in there?_

"As a very successful businessman, I want to establish a chain of cake stores in Japan's morgues; what does Raito-kun think of this idea?"

Light smacked him rather hard.

**

* * *

  
**

It wasn't that L had some kind of sick pent-up grudge against Light; that really wasn't the case and if it was, there were other ways of dealing with it.

L done whatever he'd done because he felt like it, and because he could.

He wasn't going to make a habit of it, no. There was nothing in overpowering Light and making him submit with force that wasn't in giving it to him in a bed. He knew Light wouldn't resist anyway and L could do pretty much whatever he wanted. He just _felt_ like it.

And since guilt wasn't as nearly strong of a feeling as a craving for sweets, L found no necessity in feeling guilt at all, though he supposed he probably should.

But he didn't.

And so when he knocked out the power in Light's residence and caught him around his waist and clamped the caramel eyes shut, he really didn't mean it when he apologized.

And Light really didn't mean it when he said it was okay, and to make things fair, L lied and promised that he would never do such a thing to him again.

Light thanked him for the promise, not being truthful either.

After a second of consideration, L pulled out the silky blindfold from the back pocket of his jeans and gently tied it around Light's eyes, pausing only to admire the velvety flesh of the boy's cheeks against his fingers.

Light was quite a thing to look at and touch.

L spun him around and stared at his face. The boy stood motionless in false anticipation, but in fact probably didn't care what L would do at this point.

_Good, he understands then. _

Light, under no circumstances, will be allowed to even_ think_ about developing a Stockholm Syndrome on L.

No way in hell.

He could like _Ryuzaki_ and hang around him as moral support all he liked; that was a partial reason L developed a second persona and spoon-fed Ryuzaki Rue to Light. Ryuzaki Rue was a safety mechanism for both of them.

For Light, Ryuzaki was a safety net, a friend, and an anti-suicide remedy.

For L, Ryuzaki was around in case he wanted Light for longer than he should. Which already happened.

Light's time of death was scheduled at exactly 9PM.

_Over a week ago._

Coincidentally, it was the exact time Mello decided to fool around and do his petty raid, and it was the exact time he and Light were hiding behind the dumpsters in that alley.

1,3,1,3.

B. B.

But B wasn't L. B had nothing to do with L. B was wrong. 13 was wrong. 13 was _backwards_.

Backwards, 13 made 31.

Between the first and forth of his murders, the pattern of 1-3-1 was apparent, but only day-wise, and just day-wise. A day did only have 24 hours, after all.

Backwards, 13 made 31.

31 hours, not 24.

Exact number of hours between victim 1 and 2 was **31**, **62** hours between 2 and 3, **31** between 3 and 4. **62** again between 4 and 5, last one, 5, had to be Light.

If 31 was X, then 62 would be exactly 2X.

Once, twice, once, twice.

Not 13, 13.

12, 12.

And just as 13 made a B...

...12 made an R.

R. R.

Ryuzaki Rue.

Light never got that, and when he guided the boy towards his own bedroom, L realized that he did in fact have a sick pent-up grudge against Light; Light was supposed to figure it out, and he never did.

If Light figured it out, L would have no choice but to kill him, and by now he'd be back in Britain, snacking on crumpets and drinking tea.

If Light never did, well, he would die anyway, unless L felt like letting him live.

L pushed Light on the bed grudgingly, and the boy didn't do the normal 'oof' people made when they fell. Instead, he held it in, and a moment later he let out the tiniest of throat noises.

Light was afraid, Light was _pleading. _

_He should be afraid and pleading, _L heard his mind say. He agreed, and hopped on the bed and spun the brunette thing around by his pretty hair.

Light squealed again, and L had to stop and decide if he liked that.

He didn't.

He narrowed his eyes and glared daggers at the helpless _thing_ under him; _it_ looked composed, though tiny traces of terror shook the rosy bottom lip. No, L didn't like that, he hated it. He raised his hand and struck the quivering _thing_ across the face, and this time the _thing _whimpered.

"Stop that!" he hissed and dug his jagged fingernails into the sleeves of the beige dress shirt. His knuckles turned white, and the boy started shivering everywhere, though no tiny noise escaped his throat this time.

Slowly, he released him, leaned down and gave those soft and rosy lips proper treatment, and felt the stiff body under him go lax.

When L made love to Light that night, Light was very quiet.


	11. The Chocolate Fountain

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I got a shiny new laptop and now I have no reason to get out of bed, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important  
**

**CH11**

**The Chocolate Fountain**

When Soichiro Yagami told his son, "You're moving back in. No objections," the first thought that infested L's mind was just how the heck he was supposed to climb two stories up a very _vertical_ wall, and then get into Light's bedroom through a closed window. The thought, being one of the less pleasant things to think about, drove him into a deep and dark depression.

"Ryuzaki, stop sulking."

L said nothing and considered the option of going in though the front door, and then quickly scrapped it. Nothing got to him worse than not having sex and being in the open at the Yagami house.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Dunno, he's been like that for five minutes."

"Maybe he's meditating?"

What the heck should he do? No sex while Light was around was like no cake. Just awful.

"Ryuzaki, _Ryuzaki!_"

"Raito-kun needs to stop shaking me before I hurt him with a stapler!"

"What's wrong with you?"

"I am depressed, Raito-kun. My mind has wondered to the dark corners of the world and I'm afraid my ability to leave these corners has faded. I feel very sad."

"Oh, your cake ran out," Matsuda observed, and Light cut a large slice of the Crouquembouche and plated it.

"Here," said Light. "All better?"

L's mood perked and suddenly, climbing the vertical wall of the Yagami house wasn't that big of a deal anymore.

L shoveled the cake into his mouth rapidly while Matsuda and Light went back to work.

'So half of the Yotsuba turned up dead this morning.'

'My, how awful.'

'Perhaps we should go there and check it out!'

"What a marvelous idea Yagami-kun! But not after we have our afternoon tea.'

'But of course.'

Well, maybe that wasn't exactly how the conversation went, and maybe Ryuzaki _was _dragged out by the shins and forced to abandon his tea, but Light bought him a box of animal-shaped chocolates to 'now shut the hell up, Ryuzaki', and the day took the entire team to the main Yotsuba building that had a fancy name Ryuzaki didn't bother with. Yotsuba didn't look like it would last much longer anyway.

So apparently their Yotsuba-L turned on Yotsuba and now there weren't many Yotsuba people to arrest for hiring Yotsuba-L.

And their L did absolutely nothing for a week.

What a busy job the NPA had.

L excused himself and wondered off as the team did some investigating. Watching Light throw up in the bathroom the second time around wasn't as appealing as the first.

What to do...

Perhaps getting the team to investigate Mello wasn't such a brilliant idea.

So far, L killed a bunch of people and stopped, and Mello was running on a murderous rampage (again), and Light developed some kind of righteous alternate ego, and the team was starting to give him and Light suspicious stares... and apparently there was an FBI wedding party in town.

And these four and a half forces of good, evil and just crazy hadn't had a single entertaining run-in at all.

Things were getting boring very quickly, and L saw a couple of people getting it on on top of a dumpster in an alley. At first he was going to shoot them because he was bored and had done nothing in a week.

And then he changed his mind, left the alley, waved for a taxi and got back to his headquarters though the garage.

He inconspicuously passed the cameras though which he'd known Watari was watching him, grabbed as much candy as he could carry and a spare key to his Mercedes Watari didn't know he had, went through the garage only to dash towards the car as soon as he was sure he wouldn't drop anything, tossed the candy to the passenger seat and sped though the garage doors before Watari could lock him in.

In the four-hour 'drive' he'd done, he managed to initiate three major police chases that he shook off, hit eight pedestrians, ran every red light in the city and didn't drop below double the speed limit.

There was a reason Watari never let him drive.

---

In his life, L acquired quite a few useful skills to avoid detection; he didn't need to use many of those skills as he maneuvered around the rubble of video games, chocolate wrappers, game controllers, cigarette butts, rotting takeout and countless printouts and profiles. He could make as much noise as he wanted, and it wasn't really because there was nobody in the same room with him.

There was.

And his striped back was currently turned to L; the music that came out of the TV was deafening, and the rabid tapping of the plastic guitar was incredibly annoying, and if L would know one person though and though, he knew that if an Nazi army would march though the littered room behind Matt's back and sing God Save the Queen, Matt would not notice.

So L looked around like there was nobody in the room.

Mello and Matt had a defined filing system.

Garbage went into the center of the room, work-related papers went on top of the garbage, every drawer had to have a gun and a zombie bat, and every unused power-outlet had to have an Air-freshener plug-in.

Computers and Matt's laundry occupied the window area while Mello's things piled on the bed.

Matt let out an inhuman wail and tapped his plastic guitar psychotically.

Where would Mello keep them?

Near the chocolate.

L shifted the couch (with Matt on it) just enough to pull out store boxes of boots and leather and took off the lids.

Delicious... Swiss... chocolate...

L would not.

Last time he took Mello's chocolate, Matt got a beating, and then L's car went ablaze.

Instead of stealing the chocolate, he pulled out a stack of white business cards that were held together by a hair band.

Mello's fake L business cards.

L took a few and left a few bags of chocolate gummies as fair payment, moved the couch back as Matt jumped off and danced when the TV told him his score.

* * *

"Is something troubling Raito-kun?"

Light shrugged and picked up a potato chip from the bag settled in-between his folded legs and continued to stare at Ryuzaki Rue's huge TV.

L leaned further into the headboard and considered if pushing the matter was the best idea. Light's normally bright caramel eyes were dim and his long lashes flickered rarely as if the television had something important to offer. He was still, all-too still and his body was paler than the pleasant hue of pink skin Ryuzaki loved so much. Even his perfect hair looked flat and almost... sad.

L liked Light to be happy, playful, angry, anything... anything but this. And because Light_ belonged_ to him, he _should_ be happy, playful, angry or anything else L liked. He wasn't.

And as he found out by trial-and-error in the past, he could not make people feel according to his own mood, and it made him, L, angry. He could have anything he wanted, he could do whatever he damn pleased, and yet he could not make that petty little thing over there with the potato chips--

No.

L would not do this to himself, and something told him he should not do this to Light either. However he looked at it, it was his own fault.

He shouldn't have pushed Light that far, whatever it was that he'd done. His gut told him it was the shower episode and the aftermath.

"Raito-kun..."

"Ryuzaki, I'm watching TV."

How cold.

Light wouldn't even share his misery with his 'friend'.

Did L want him to? Not really. He was never the type for all that sensitive garbage, especially the garbage he himself created. He didn't want Light to feel sad or miserable, he didn't want him to be miserable... and by logic, this probably meant he shouldn't make him miserable.

L did not regret things.

And yet by logic, all this meant that he regretted making Light miserable.

By further logic, it meant he wanted to make Light happy to make himself happy, and he wanted them to be happy... together...

This was stupid.

"Raito-kun!"

"Yes, Ryuzaki."

"Raito-kun is watching a treadmill commercial; I suggest he switches the channel to put up a more convincing front!"

Light sighed and reached over L's lap for the remote.

"There, news. Happy?"

L stared at the TV where he, in his back Mercedes, sped though an intersection and made a sharp turn down the wrong lane, causing a persuading police car to slam into a Coca Cola truck.

Light finally blinked.

"Look at that idiot go."

L made a mental note to take Light for a joyride at least once if he deemed the brunette's poor heart capable of living though it without trauma.

"Holy crap," Light sat up. The Mercedes jumped the highway separator and skid to an exit leaving most of its tires on the pavement. The other cars on the highway piled high at where L cut them off. L did not know this, the police chopper view provided quite an angle at his little adventure. Hadn't Ryuzaki Rue promise the NPA another chopper? L would definitely cough it up just to fly it himself.

The narrating newscaster made sure to note how fast L was going and the death toll of people and cars though each segment of the chase where they managed to capture him on tape.

"Racers! Reckless bustards, that jerk probably doesn't even care how many people he ran over!" Light was getting entertained and livid simultaneously, and L decided to fuel the flame.

"It may be L."

Light stilled, his body suddenly free of excitement, and slumped back into the blankets. The fire was gone.

"You know what, it probably was," he muttered quietly.

L wouldn't take it anymore.

"Raito-kun will tell me what is bothering him, _now_."

Light groaned and slammed a pillow against his own face and screamed into it, leaving L speechless. When Light stopped moving altogether, L figured he was trying to suffocate himself.

No, no, no. Light did not have the right to his life anymore, L did. He tried to pry the pillow away.

Light kicked him in the shins and rolled away. L was still speechless.

"What the hell are you doing," Light muffled into the pillow from the side.

"What is Raito-kun doing?"

"Hiding."

Hiding.

What Light needed wasn't a psychologist or a pastor. He needed to get away from the investigation. L felt a ping of guilt.

"What are you hiding from?"

"L."

L considered how to reply to this.

"Raito-kun, has L been perusing you?"

Light considered how to reply to this also.

"No," he lied, still hiding in the pillow.

"Would Raito-kun feel safer if he moved in here instead of his father's house?"

Last thing L wanted was Light permanently living in the headquarters, or for any period of time at all. Privacy was privacy. L had people to kill and Light had socks to fold alphabetically. They would kill each other.

Moving in together was stupid, just as collective happiness.

"No, though Ryuzaki?"

"Yes, Raito-kun?"

Light finally emerged from the pillow, his hair ruffled and face red in places from inconstant pressure. L wanted to kiss him.

"Could you ask dad to get the house under surveillance? I don't want to ask him myself."

"Street police?"

"Cameras."

L figured, Light never wanted L to go near him ever again.

Tough luck.

The TV changed its tune.

_'Our other story today is the rising popularity of Kira. Kyomi Takada, self-proclaimed god...'_ something, _'... a popular cult in the matter of days, responsible for a shooting in the downtown Tokyo...'_ something else, _'...alleged to be connected to gang violence were found dead....' _Woah_._

'_Kira followers are allegedly responsible.'_

"What does Raito-kun think of Kira?"

"Kyomi. She's dead."

"The collective voice of Kira, this... cult."

"Idiot followers."

"And their new leader?" People did not revolt without a leader. Light must know this.

"_God._"

"That's it. Raito-kun is coming with me to a psychiatrist!"

"What the hell!"

"He thinks a murdering, idealistic nutcase is a God!" L hopped off the bed and started gathering Light's upper garments. "He is coming with me, now!"

"No!"

"Yes!" L threw Light's brown jacket a little too hard and it smacked Light right in the face. L didn't pay mind to it in his frenzy of clothes-gathering until he noticed Light sitting there, cross-legged, staring at the jacket in his hand. Again, those sweet cheeks paled and lashes lowered and eyes dulled.

"Raito-kun!"

"Ryuzaki, can I tell you something?" Light said quietly, still staring at the jacket like it was the most important thing in the world. L could pretend he didn't hear the note of desperation in Light's shaky voice and go on with his episode of getting Light to a shrink.

He didn't.

He didn't want to deal with Light's misery and yet he did not shut him down and went on about his business.

This was what Watari would call humanity.

"Yes?" He sat at the edge of the bed.

Light dropped the jacket to his lap and eyed his hands.

"L... visited me. Once."

L's mind blanked out. Light was telling this to_ Ryuzaki_. The amount of trust it took... The realization of just how much L screwed up downed on him like a monsoon.

Light really was...

Broken.

"I should get the team for this-"

"No! No, don't, please," Light pleaded. L shouldn't let him finish without the team, "let me... just let me finish, then do whatever you want, alright?"

Hesitantly, L lowered himself back to the edge of the bed against all common sence.

"Right," Light muttered. "He... there's no DNA, it's all gone now, but he-"

"Raito-kun..."

"He- he..." Light sobbed. L didn't really know what to do, so he patted Light's shoulder. He should hug him. He should.

Light smirked at the gesture, but his eyes were threatening to spill. Is that what he looked like behind the blindfold? Is that what he looked like in the dark?

L_ hated_ it.

"I... it was before... before we started to, and he..." Light's voice was as soft and quiet as L had ever heard it. "Please don't hate me."

"Raito-kun-"

"Don't hate me and," and the softness was gone, replaced by escalating anger, "don't you even dare to leave me because now you think he'll go after you! Don't you dare, you fucking bastard, you hear me?"

Light needed a shrink desperately.

"Is the evidence gone?"

"What?"

"Is it gone?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall, or shall not, tell the team depending on Raito-kun's wishes."

Light told him not to tell.

L realized just how much he'd screwed Light up.

* * *

"So whacha planning to do with those?"

"I did not take your chocolate."

"I know; you took my L cards though. I'd know, I made the stupid idiot install surveillance, 'cause you know how he is when he's playing that game shit. Totally deaf. Choco-gummies didn't give ya away, I promise" Mello half-whined and flopped himself onto L's plush couch.

"Why would you want your cards back? They are just a few cards."

"They're my L cards!" the blonde thing protested from L's couch and rested his cowboy civilian boots on L's coffee table. L would have that cleaned later. Mello had no sense of respect for other people's property, really.

"You can have some of mine in exchange for these, the real ones will make your Yotsuba raid look more legitimate."

"You heard 'bout that?" Mello asked sheepishly and L stared at him, "Umm... whoops?"

"Just out of curiosity, what did they _do_?" but when Mello rolled his eyes and arched his back suggestively, L shuddered and added, "Never mind, I don't think I want to know."

"So I want my cards back."

"No, I think I will keep them."

"Bastard, those are important cards, y'know."

"Oh?" asked L in complete disinterest, but that never stopped Mello before.

"Yeah, I made them as the symbol of my adoration for L. Y'know, back when still thought you were cool?"

"How nice of you."

"Yeah, I'm saint."

L stared at his uninvited guest for at least ten minutes, and if it were any normal person he was staring at, this person would crawl up a wall and then try to physically punch an exit hole in that wall with their body, but this was Mello, and unfortunately Mello was immune to stares, sarcasm and probably bullets, though L never really wanted to try the later. He liked Mello.

"Sooo..." Mello sang and helped himself to L's truffles.

"Can I help you with anything else?"

"Umm, yeah, I got this question, right..."

L sensed this was going to be a long one, so he hopped out of his swirly chair and sat across Mello, and helped himself to his own truffles as well

"Yes, Mello."

"Umm... I dunno how to break this to you... but uh..."

"Mello, language is a requirement in this building, you know this."

"Okay man, you know there's like police right there in the other room, _right?_"

"Yes."

"Okay?" but when L said nothing, Mello elaborated, "what the hell?"

"I assure you, the idea sounded very entertaining at first."

Mello made a sour face.

"That's what my cards are for? Throwing fake L cards around isn't going to make it very entertaining. Snap out of it."

"I really like this one."

"That's what you always say."

"I mean it, Mello."

"You always mean it."

L sensed something was going to come out of this conversation, and it was not the soulful outpour of blackmail material on Mello's shoulder that Mello always managed to make him do. No, something better.

So L sat through Mello's rant about how L should go to church.

"I want a hug," demanded Mello.

L cringed.

"No."

Mello threw a truffle at him.

And so before he knew it, L was manhandling Mello.

And as fate would have it, Light, along with the entire team picked this exact moment to casually stroll into Ryuzaki's private quarters.

Mogi and Aizawa rolled their eyes as if they expected this sooner or later.

Chief Yagami just stared.

Light's caramel eyes narrowed.

Mello noticed them, so did L, and they both stilled in an awkward and suggestive not-hug in the middle of the spacious room. He felt Mello's hand sneak into his leather jacket where he had his gun.

L had to think fast.

Light was going to hate him, and if Light hated him, there might as well not be any use for Light at all, and L didn't like that possibility.

And then Mello would kill everyone anyway.

"There, it's alright, don't cry now," L told Mello cooingly with his back to the team as if he hadn't even noticed them. Under the pretence of patting the blonde head, he pulled on the hair so hard that the Barbie squealed.

"Maybe... we should come back... _later_," he heard Matsuda mutter uncomfortably.

Perfect.

L pretended to be caught off guard.

"Matsuda-san! Team..." and he yanked at Mello's hair so hard that the boy groaned. If he didn't take that as 'play along, Mello, or I'll shave off all that hair that you wash four times a day,' than Mello was truly dense.

The look Light was giving him _hurt. _

He had to do this just right.

"I have awful yet wonderful news," L declared.

"Good news for you, Ryuzaki?" Light said a little too quietly.

"I have awful yet wonderful news for the L investigation team," L clarified, and when not a single person in the room looked like they believed him, he went on.

"I have located another L witness."

'Ryuzaki', who was presumably smart, would never in his right mind make this up, especially just to hide a bluntly obvious one-night stand with a tranny. L figured it would pass.

"This," L spun Mello around and thrust him in front of a team as if he was a rather large blonde item in an evidence bag, "is our second L witness."

Light raised both eyebrows and L cheered at his success.

"He is also very sad about it."

"Uh..." said Mello.


	12. The Big Plan

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I've been suicidal for four days because I've found out my true bra size is 36A, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important**

**CH12**

**The Big Plan**

It was now only the matter of time before Ryuzaki Rue was discovered as L.

And something was already wrong, and Matsuda was a dead giveaway. The man fiddled with his fingers and picked the ground with is toes, and every time he passed L he broke into sweats and knocked something over. But had the L investigation team been coping without one dead giveaway of an officer in crotches, L would have noticed the way Ide's bushy eyebrows drew together, or the way Chief Yagami played with tape when he thought no one was looking.

L curled into his ball and hugged his knees and counted, because counting was all he could do to stay calm for an entirely different reason.

Mello was capable of _everything_.

L asked him to report how while taking a walk around SakuraTV, Mello saw _somebody_ shoot Kyomi Takada.

But this was Mello, and asking Mello to do something was as good as... well, asking Mello to do something. He was capable of sweetly telling the interrogating officer how he and L had imaginary sex and then insert a sob story how he was L's distant cousin and how now he was pregnant.

In short, L counted seconds and waited for someone's phone to ring and declare the main NPA building with a thousand or so officers in it in the state of siege.

L realized just how much he'd managed to screw things over this time.

He'd exposed himself to police.

_Nice, L. Good job. _

Mello was the worst he'd done. Any of the four FBI members catching a whiff of Mello would draw a large, flashing arrow in L's direction because Mello, who didn't bother remaining faceless (or rather, was known for his leather), was a common sighting around L.

It was now only the matter of time before Ryuzaki Rue was discovered as L.

His options weren't broad at all.

He could grab Mello and disappear, and hope Matt could get everything police had on them out of the NPA database. This was bad because it left Light and L-team as credible people to compile credible sketches.

He could put together a nice list of people who'd seen him during his stay in Japan and kill them. Unfortunately that included Light.

He could grab Mello _and_ Light, get Matt to hack NPA and kill everyone else. This would make Light sad, so this wasn't a good idea either.

He still had the families of the five officers on a 'vacation'. He could always resort to threats, but threats were never reliable.

L groaned mentally and curled into himself tighter.

This was bad.

_It was now only the matter of time before Ryuzaki Rue was discovered as L._

And a jumpy Matsuda, Ide the Grinch and the hopelessly taped fingers of Chief Yagami were sure indicators that there was already something they all suspected. And it wasn't L's affair with chief's son, either.

_Crap_.

L informed Watari of this and put Matt on standby because it was really all he could do.

When Mogi and Aizawa did bring Mello back, they came back looking uncertain and anxious, particularly towards Light and his father. Mello's expression was uncharacteristically depressed and Mogi's coat draped around his shoulders suggested he managed to strike a note of sympathy in the man.

And that could mean only one thing. L glared at Mello and the Barbie smiled sheepishly, but their little exchange went unnoticed in the growing awkwardness.

Mogi approached Light.

"Raito, we have something to ask you."

Light tensed, as if he was expecting this and the sole reason he spent the afternoon with his back to the team was the dread of hearing that sentence.

"Yeah, sure," Light smiled politely and turned to face Mogi.

"Mello here," Mello made himself _un_comfortable in the adjacent chair and observed the all the interesting properties of the floor for added dramatic effect, "is our _brave_ L witness."

Brave, huh. Oh, Light was going to kill L for this.

"He has come forward as and L witness and victim." Victimized, brave Mello picked the thread of Mogi's jacket. "Raito, answer honestly. Has L visited you after you saw him at the Koi Pond?"

The chief looked up at this.

"He hasn't..."

"Chief, don't."

"Has he, Raito?"

"Have I seen L after Koi Pond? No." What a great twist of truth, but L figured Light knew it will not pass.

"Raito, I know this can be hard..."

"Don't pressure him, Mogi."

"Has he-"

"No, I haven't seen him-"

"That wasn't the question, has he visited you?"

"Hey, whaddaya mean Mello's a victim?"

"Raito-"

"Shut up Matsuda, Raito-kun..."

"He hasn't."

"Is that the truth?"

"It's the truth."

"What victim?"

"Rape victim."

"Wha-"

"God! Has L visited you, Raito?"

"No!"

"Raito-"

L didn't care about the outraged face of Chief Yagami, Matsuda's internal epiphany, Mogi's pressure or Mello or Ide or the cake.

Light looked ready to cry and L couldn't take it; it felt like he was having a breakdown with Light.

"Stop it!" Light screamed.

"Stop it!" L copied and hopped to his feet and physically blocked the five officers from asking Light any more stupid questions.

"Ryuzaki-san, we can't do that, he-"

"Shut up!" L turned to Light, and Light pleaded L to take him away from it all with his eyes, and if something inside L's shrunken little heart snapped, Mello would sure as hell tell him about it later.

"Raito-kun," L commanded and Light to answer this time, and Light's pleading stare turned desperate, "has L visited you since the Koi Pond incident?"

Light screwed his eyes shut and gripped the arms of the chair. It was barely audible when he forced a "yes" leave his lips, and when he did, the simple word poisoned the air.

Somewhere behind L, Soichiro Yagami collapsed into a chair and Matsuda whispered an 'oh my god'.

"Has he touched you?" L demanded to leave no doubts for the team.

Light made a high sound at the back of his throat and with the expression of eating a lemon, he nodded.

L wished Light said 'no'. L also wished that 'no' was the truth.

--

But things only got worse.

A few days later, Misora Naomi, with her shoulders proudly drawn back and chest full of confident air, stood in front Reye Penber on the doorstep of the L HQ. In her right hand, she had a suspiciously official-looking warrant, requesting FBI to be allowed on the L-team.

L didn't really care how she got it, and Reye Penber didn't even pretend to care.

"Misora, this isn't our wedding rehearsal," the man rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. L supposed he was used to this by now. Misora Naomi was known for her uncanny ability to disreguard any and all plans and fly across the country to an alleged L-sighting; it was no surprise a petty thing like her own wedding ranked so low on her to-do list.

She immediately accused Ryuzaki Rue of being L.

L hoped to leave the country before this sort of thing came about, but plans were something he lacked in the past few weeks.

The team's skepticism towards Light's initial convictions was slowly fading away.

Light was removed from the team and L's presence.

He was kept under strict guard of twenty-something cops at a spacious hotel suite of nine hundred-something square feet and triple as many surveillance cameras, all courtesy of his father.

Ryuzaki could not get close to him, and L most certainly could not, either.

L needed a plan.

"I need a plan," he told Mello.

"You can't raid the hotel," Mello sang as he absently browsed though a Misa-Misa fansite.

"We-"

"_We_ can't raid the hotel either. You fucked me over enough already. It's not possible, anyway. We can't do it, dude, just drop it."

"Fine," L huffed angrily, not in the mood for sweets, "I need another plan."

"Well, here's an idea. Kill 'em all, blow up the hotel, get a hobo that looks like you and burn him beyond recognition. Then skip town. L killed 'em all. The end."

Suddenly L was overwhelmed by nostalgia and could almost smell Light's girly shampoo. He threw his bag of untouched licorice into a paper bin.

"Not an option. I want him back."

"L, for fucks sake!"

"Mello, I'm serious."

"Well excuse me, what the hell else you gonna risk? After you got him, what are you gonna do?"

"Mello-"

"No, I'm gonna tell you what you're gonna do. One night, after you've kidnapped him and kept him for a week at most, you're gonna wake up next to him and realize you can't keep yourself to him, and you don't like him in captivity as much as you'd liked him free. You're gonna get out of bed, grab a gun and while he's peacefully sleeping, you're gonna shoot him in the head."

L sighed, relaxed his stiff muscles, collapsed limply into a couch and screwed his eyes shut.

That was the likely outcome. One night, just about when Light would be getting used to the idea of being held captive by a murderer, L would realize he can't commit to something like this. The image of himself getting out of bed and reaching for the gun was real, a real recollection of what he'd done before, over and over again, but instead of those other beautiful men sleeping peacefully in his bed, L imaged Light.

And it hurt.

"I don't want to do that," he said quietly.

Mello shrugged.

"I can't guard him from you, you know."

"I like him."

"Right."

"Can't you do something?"

"Nope."

L groaned and slapped himself in the face.

"What the hell am I am thinking."

"No shit."

"Can't you do something about _that_ at least?" What the hell else did L invite Mello over for?

"'Kay," Mello finally got off the chair, unplugged L's computer and grabbed as much candy as he could carry and comically carried the stuff past L into one of Ryuzaki Rue's guest bedrooms.

"Come on, whacha waiting for?"

L grudgingly got off the couch and shuffled behind Mello. The blonde dumped the candy into the middle of the bed and got on. L collapsed behind him and hid his face in the pillow, much like Light had done only a few days ago before he was rudely taken away from L.

Light this, Light that.

"Make me stop thinking about him," he groaned.

"Okie-dokie, take your pants off?"

"Not helpful."

Mello only giggled and parked a pillow onto his folded legs and reopened the Misa-Misa website.

"My advice," he said, "is you should get a hobby. Like this one," and he spun the laptop to have L come face to face with a mostly naked Misa Amane in a pose that kids these days called 'modeling'.

L admired the girl's plump breasts, poorly hidden by a bra.

"Light used to date her, you know," he told Mello.

Mello took the laptop back to admire the pretty girl himself.

"Not bad, not bad. What the hell is he doing with you?"

"Mello."

"Right, fine. Hobby. Okay, you take a celebrity and you learn everything you possibly can about her. Like this one." Mello again span the laptop around to show L Misa Amane in a playboy bunny outfit.

"That's stalking."

"Whatever. She's hot. Matt started it, anyway."

"Why would I be interested in her?"

"Well _because_. She's an open supporter of that psycho cult, you know, the 'Dear Kira, shut the fuck up'?"

L threw the pillow away and ripped the computer out of Mello's hands.

"Dude, chill! Want some condoms or something? I'll leave ya alone, just you know, wash your hands?"

L ignored him, instead he scrolled down to Misa Amene's blog to find what he was looking for in pink and swirly letters.

'_I think Kira's great. The whole concept of justice is really screwed with people today, and it's good that somebody thinks things should be set right. That L guy is really bad, and police can't get to him. If a cult manages to get him, they'll be my heroes. I hate criminals.'_

"...L? Ellieee? Hello?"

The date this entry was posted five days ago, back when Light was still free to walk the streets of Japan.

L's motivation jumped up like an Easter bunny.

"I have a plan!"

"We're gonna have a threesome with her, yes?"

"I need Matt, where is he?"

"Uh, eww? Matt's _my_ bitch, all mine..."

But L grabbed Mello by the collar and dragged him towards the elevators only to drop him and come back to get the candy. He stuffed as many chocolate almonds into his mouth as would fit, and with a computer under one arm and Mello in the other showed the Barbie into a car and made him drive, because despite Mello's reckless driving habits, he was still a safer driver than L.

"Get me to Matt."

"Gotcha. Whacha thinking?"

L told him.

"Holy shit, seriously?"

"Yes."

"And you're planning to-"

"No."

L told Mello his plan.

"Dude, if that fails, you'll be screwed-"

"Mello, _truck_!"

Mello was still a safer driver than L by a mile.

---

"Matt."

The redhead in a striped burglar shirt waved his gloved hand in L's general direction. What L suspected to be a homemade herbal roll hung loosely between his lips and smoked.

"Matt, stop smoking pot in front of him, it's rude," Mello told him and kicked him in the back.

L found himself breaking up the small scuffle in the interest of saving time.

"I'm at your services," said Matt finally, still clutching at a few strands of blonde hair.

Good.

L handed Matt a hard copy of Light's complete profile.

"I need you to prove to me this is Kira."

A few hours later, Matt called L in from the dirty kitchen where he and Mello were having a debate about truffles. It was amazing how Matt was capable of solving things in the matter of time police had never dreamed about.

"This is surveillance from a cellphone store of Kyomi Takada purchasing a disposable phone." A grainy low quality video popped up on Matt's computer. "They're untraceable if you're a newb. High clearance military can trace 'em."

"This," Matt pointed at an overly simplified map of Tokyo, "is where four calls to Kyomi Takada's disposable phone were made from." Four red dots lit up randomly throughout the map.

"These are paid phones. This is the route of two busses that go around there." The route lines came very close to the red phone dots.

"These are hourly pings of Tsuki Yagami's phone," the ping dots were exactly at the bus route lines.

"Now this is just me showing off." Matt pulled up a YouTube video of a boy breaking his leg while skateboarding, and in the background was none other than Light Yagami in a phonebooth.

"Hah," said Mello in passive wonder, "you were right."

Light was a crazy vigilante after all. L would deal with the conflicting feelings later, after he got his hands on him.

"Thank you Matt."

"There's more, just spit it out. There's always more."

"I need Matt to get me into a highly guarded hotel suite."

"For how long?"

"A minute will do."

"Make it twenty, he needs to get laid."

L glared angrily at Mello.

"I need a minute to have a conversation with him."

"And nineteen more to get laid."

"Yo! People!" Matt waved his hands around. "Where, how many guards, surveillance?"

L gave Matt the address and it took the alien-worshipping hacker under two minutes to pull up complete list of guards and even get a live feed of Light watching TV.

"I can get you in there, I can get you out, I can't get _him_ out, don't even ask."

"That's fine. Surveillance levels?"

"'Kays, there's a bunch of live surveillance with live security... it's better to do it at night when he's sleeping; it's less conspicuous to switch the feed to a recording of a sleeping guy than a guy watching a show that aired four hours ago."

"Can you disable all surveillance?"

"Yup."

"For how long?"

"Twenty minutes," insisted Mello.

"I can do twenty, but that's pushing it. They refresh the feeds and check up on him every half-hour, there's barely a window there... L, you gonna have to knock out a guard."

"Matt, this is critical. What kind of surveillance is there?"

"Live cameras, recording cameras, live bugs, recording bugs. The whole package. He's like Rapanzel in there, I swear to god. I can overwrite the live feed stuff and scramble the recordings. It's safe, you just gotta get outta there in time."

"Matt, I need you to leave the sound recording devises on."

"What?"

"Find out which _sound _recordingdevise is hardest to disable and leave it _on_."

**

* * *

  
**

"It's a go," L reported into a tiny microphone.

"Lights out in eighty seconds, stand by."

L waited patiently, at first toying the rubber band around his wrist, then peaking at the dark hotel room though an airvent. A small bed was tucked into a far corner with a clear outline of a person under the sheets.

L made himself swear he will not hurt that person no matter what.

And then he heard district noises of the main mike being wrestled away from Matt.

"Dude, can we watch?"

"Matt, please hurt Mello."

A very short radio silence later, Matt cut the cameras and L cut the bolts, removed the lid and quietly lowered himself into the still room. His black socks touched the ground softly and then he swiftly darted to the side, having a gun at ready. He saw movement, but a moment later he realized he just saw his own reflection in a mirror through an open door of the hotel's bathroom.

Quietly, as if he wasn't even there, L stood up from the floor and straightened up. His own reflection scared him; a tall black-clad figure in leather gloves, ski mask and a gun at hand stared at him though the mirror and L decided he will never let Light see him like this.

There were panic buttons all over this place, and L grudgingly had to bring rope.

He didn't want to do it this way, but Light deserved something nice. The whole ordeal went by quickly and a minute later Light lay flat on his back with his hands tied to a bedpost, blindfolded.

Of course he fought, but L pressed his body tight to the one beneath him, wrapping his arms around the shaking boy and holding him down.

"How the hell did you-" Light stilled considerably, but he still shivered.

Fear.

"I'm a professional, Light, don't forget that."

Light jerked and yanked at the restraints, and L could see red marks forming on the silky wrists already.

"Don't do that, I'm not here to hurt you."

He had no time, so he ripped the blue sleeping shirt off and Light kicked when L pulled the boxers off the beautiful long legs.

"Hmm," L whispered in amusement, "you seem to be ready for me."

Light was aroused by L's presence alone, despite the fear, despite the restraints, despite everything Light always reacted wonderfully to L, whatever their predicament was.

"Why are you doing this?"

L didn't know.

"Because I want those idiots behind the wall to know you're mine and I can take you whenever I want, right under their noses. They can put their best security around you, but you'll still belong to me no matter where you are or how well they hide you."

"So I'm a trophy thing then?" the corners of the red lips twitched downward in distaste.

"Yes," L lied as he pulled off his leather gloves and rolled the ski mask up to make a hairnet. He couldn't clean this place, he had to be careful.

"Leave me alone," Light whispered.

Again, it _hurt_.

"To do what? So you can run free with stupid women who can't even take care of you?"

"What?"

"Takada, your crazy girlfriend. She was nowhere near worthy of you. Misa Amane is next. You're _mine_, only mine."

"What the hell, you're insane! Let me g-mmph!" L kissed him partially because he had no time to hear protests, partially just to silence Light so he wouldn't finish that painful sentence.

L grinded his knee against the exposed member and it jerked.

"You seem to be ready for me, don't you want this?"

"No..." and the boy sobbed.

"Light, I can please you, you know this."

"I know."

"Then why won't you let me?"

"Because I'll _like_ it." He said it as if it was the worst thing in the world.

L did not understand.

"Hush now, just relax. This is for you."

Light was truly gorgeous. His pink skin glowed in the gentle hue of the streetlights and every quivering part of him was beautiful and delicate.

Light was tied, scared, defenseless, flat on his back, completely in L's power. His bound hands shivered slightly and his red lips twitched, and despite it all his red nipples were perky and his silky length was thick and throbbing. L wanted to see his eyes, those scared, clear caramel eyes, staring up at him with fear and uncertainty, he wanted.

Gently, he patted the soft cheek with the back of his hand and Light nearly jumped on a reflex. He thought L was going to strike him.

"I won't hurt you," L whispered softly, leaning down and carefully nipping the soft skin just below the blindfold. "I won't, shhh. It's alright."

The beautiful boy did not relax, though L's careful ministrations and low, sexy whisper made him shudder and his length twitched again.

"I don't have much time," he told Light. If L allowed Mello to push the 20 minutes, he wanted this, so he should hurry up and ram into the boy. Strangely that wasn't what he wanted.

Light jerked at the restrains again and L rubbed circles at where rope cut sharply into flesh.

"I can't loosen these. I'm sorry," he said honestly and pecked at the soft lips. His free hand trailed his open palm down the slight curve of Light's smooth chest and tugged at a nipple but didn't tease, instead L curled his fingers and scraped his jagged, bitten fingernails across the soft belly and past the soft mass of hair.

Light whimpered and L pressed himself against the warm, quivering body and rocked against it soothingly. His lips moved to the tender neck and pressed against an artery, and Light couldn't help but let a pleased noise slip though his lips when L purred against his jugular and sent vibrations into his throat.

"Nh..." L left the warm skin to look at the bothered face. Light must have screwed his eyes shut under the blindfold, because his cheeks wrinkled and lips paled. L traced those lips with a finger, while allowing the fingers of his other hand to trail down the hard shaft.

Light shivered again when L's hand reached the tip of his erection and L enjoyed the texture of the wet slit against his fingertip.

He kissed him on the lips and left the upper regions of his body altogether to focus on Light's throbbing erection in his hand.

"I haven't done this to you before, please be patient," he advised and kissed the inner thighs when they tensed in concern. "You will like it."

L had never done this to Light because he had never bound him, and he wasn't one all in favor of pleasing his partner and neglecting his own needs. But this was Light. L wanted to please him.

It was strange.

Still gently, L pinched the thick member at its base and kissed the round, red tip almost symbolically before giving it a generous lick. It tasted bitter, and L wasn't sure if Light tasted differently from anyone else, but because it was Light, L loved the taste. He lifted it up and had to hold it up because Light would not willingly allow himself to have a full erection without a lot of help. That was fine. L nibbled soft and hot underside down until he reached the base cupped the sensitive sack with the palm of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and Light tried to kick him.

L grabbed a wild leg mid-air and clutched Light's ankle hard enough for Light to remember who he was dealing with. Slowly, the long legs fell apart limply, as if giving up.

L continued. His chapped lips scraped the foreskin and his hot tongue lapped freely at the organ. Small moans were already coming from above, and L spanked Light's behind hard enough to set a law against kicking before scratching the defined separation between the base and the tip with his sharp nail.

Light yelped but kept his legs obediently apart. So far so good. Carefully, making his intent clear, he pinched the wrinkled skin near the slit and pulled at it slowly. Pinching was painful, so was pulling. Perfect toes around L dug into the sheets.

By now, Light was thicker and redder, and the pulsating blood was visible though the vein on the underside. L pressed his lips against it and counted the escalated pulse while pulling the skin away to make it as tight of the boy as it would get. L was sure nobody ever touched there. He slipped a finger in between the folds of skin and Light hissed. L knew it stung.

"Shh," he said.

L slipped his tongue to where the finger just went. The skin there was raw. L ravished the red tip with saliva. Clear precum mixed with L's spit, and L estimated Light had about five more minutes, and L had ten until he had to leave.

He reached down a picked up an ice cube out of the hotel's champagne-less champagne bucket and checked to see if he hadn't lost the rubber band. Cautiously again, Light stilled.

"Don't kick," L reminded, blowing gentle air of the wet organ. Ice felt cold in his hand, and slowly L pressed it against the skin of a silky thigh. Light jerked and whimpered, and his shaft twitched against L's other hand while L's thumb was still picking at the slit.

For this, it was best to tie Light's legs apart, too, but L simply didn't have enough time, and if Light hated it, L would stop. The ice cube started to melt rapidly against the hot flesh and it left a wet trail as L traced it higher up Light's thigh and into areas where ice should never go. Heavy shudder tore through Light's muscles when L moved the cube around the sack and the pulsating erection.

"Gah!" Light cried, bucking his hips away. The melting cube moved smoothly along his thick erection and when L swirled it around the tip, some of the precious harness went away. Quickly L replaced the cube with his mouth and deep throated the boy, putting the cube against the curve of the lower cheeks. More precum streamed down, and the hot body twitched wildly.

"Haa..."

Good.

L pushed the ice into the cheeks until the only way further was a way _in_. As L sucked, Light cried in odd pleasure L's mouth and ice brought him. So ice was alright, and it was melting quickly against Light's entrance. L felt the inner muscles clamp shut as another shameless, loud moan came from above.

The ice was still sharp. L swirled the chunk around the tiny puckered circle until the jagged edges melted away. Good enough. L only had six minutes.

Slowly, L pushed the ice against the resisting entrance. Light tired to kick around aimlessly and tore against the restraints, but it was in vain. Eventually, the tight, puckered hole gave and the ice slipped effortlessly inside of him.

"Fuuc-c aaaaa..! HaGOD fffu..."

L licked and sucked and pumped the ready shaft. It worked, and instead of losing his erection, Light dug his heels into the mattress and cursed and bucked his hips in effort to get the ice out, but L pushed his finger in and kept the ice going forward. Light tender insides were wild; they clamped down and relaxed and tightened as Light fought the battle of his life, and a loud, pleased cry tore thought the room when L managed to get his prostate with whatever of the ice cube hadn't melted yet.

Light was ready.

Before the boy understood what was happening, L wrapped the rubber band tightly against the pulsating organ.

"Fuc—wa… dya FU do..ooooin'?!..haaa." Light was so beyond, words failed him. Despite the band, L jerked the boy off, pushed the ice aside and rammed his prostate with his fingers. His mouth wouldn't do any good at this point, and L pulled himself up to watch the gorgeous creature weasel and jerk and buck against the sheets. Tears soaked the blindfold.

"Ple-p.. ssss lemme, LEMME L fu…" Just a little more. The orgasm Light was about to have was nothing compared to the two minutes L had left.

After forcing another finger inside Light and curling it against his prostate, Light cried and L snapped the band off, capturing the bloody lips the boy chewed on throughout the whole ordeal.

White, silky liquid shot out generously. L licked it off his fingers. Light collapsed back and panted as if all air in the world was not enough.

Shakily, fighting his own erection, L pulled his gloves back on and untied the abused wrists and lifted the shaking and panting body away from the stained sheets and carried him into the bathroom and lowered him into the bubbling bath.

L supported the lolling head as he dipped it into the soapy water once. The blindfold was soaked and tilted to the side, and L fixed it hastily before resting Light's head against the edge of the tub. Light still couldn't catch his breath.

L ran out, tore the sheet from the bed and crumpled it to keep any hair or saliva he might have left inside, and jumped into the airvent just as he'd heard the front doors burst open.

**

* * *

  
**

A/N: I know I cut out all A/Ns and stopped writing them, BUT I JUST HAAVEE TOOO!!

What the hell is L planning? Oh the suspense! Anyone got even the slightest idea? Bwahahahaaaa!!

L: Miss King _really_ likes theories, (and apparently bondage). **Thanks to everyone who reviewed.**

A/N: **HI REVIEWER!** You know what you should do?** You should gimme your theory by clicking this button! **(because I love theories, they masturbate my ego enough to write chapters quicker) (yes, the review button is back up now. Click it. It went down –just- when I was about to update. It's a girl. She hates me. )

l

l

l

V


	13. The Father

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, DO NOT TOUCH THINGS THAT HAVE FIRE COMING OUT OF THEM, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important**

**CH13**

**The Father**

Tentatively, L approached the unshaved man with bags under his and offered him one of his sugar donuts.

Soichiro Yagami looked terrible. He was old and weak and he smelled like an old and weak man, he smelled like sweat, coffee, hair and the greasy air of insomnia created a gross aura around him, and if L wasn't feeling responsible he would have stayed a hundred feet back.

Instead, L found himself offering the man a donut.

The humanity.

L excused himself by reasoning he was doing this only to get close enough to the man so that he would tell L about Light's condition.

"Here," he said in an unnecessarily loud tone when the chief of NPA hadn't noticed L creep up behind him. Yagami jumped up and stared at L in shock for a brief moment before rejecting the donut and turning back to the L reports he had read a hundred times over the past thirty hours.

"Yagami-san needs to eat," L reasoned.

Yagami shook his head half-way, but then he grabbed the highlighter, marked something on the page and rampaged through a stack of documents for a few minutes as if something important caught his eye, and then he helplessly sat back down with no miraculous new lead, again.

"Yagami-san needs to sleep."

"Ryuzaki," said the man without turning to him, "I'm fine."

"Yagami-san has been awake for forty hours. He needs to sleep."

"You've been awake for forty hours to see me awake for forty hours, so it's not your place to talk about sleep."

"Yagami-san, there's nothing you can do," L offered, pulling up a chair next to the chief, but half-way though lowering himself into it he fall off because the chief shook the chair and yelled at him.

"But there is nothing," L said from the floor.

"For fuck's sake, have you _heard_ the tape, Ryuzaki?! Have you heard what that bastard did to him?! That's my son! I will personally shoot that son of a bitch myself,_ he is not touching my son ever again!_ You hear me, Ryuzaki?!"

L heard him, a little too loudly perhaps, but L heard him.

"Does Yagami-san think L will kill Raito-kun?"

The man took his head into his hands and sucked in air.

"I won't let him, so I have to find him, I have to-"

"Yagami-san needs rest."

The chief refused to go home and L gave up and left the man alone in the main floor of the L HQ, got into the elevator and slammed his head against the elevator's mirror wall.

---

"We've put Misa Amane under protective surveillance."

"And?"

"We moved Raito," muttered Matsuda in his report to Misora Naomi who after deeming the chief of police high on coffee proclaimed herself the new (temporary) leader of the L investigation.

Reye Penber typed up angry e-mails to his wedding guests and pulled up L-related materials when Naomi passed by.

Despite the ridiculous predicament the L-investigation team was in, the investigating got much more serious. In her one day with Japanese L-related data, Naomi managed to link Yotsuba-L with L and suspiciously eyed Mello every time he graced the lower levels of Ryuzaki Rue's building with his presence.

Every time he would come in close range, she would make a show of getting up and then in a whisper loud enough for the room to hear, she would say, "are you absolutely sure that," and she would point to the innocent-looking Ryuzaki Rue, "isn't L?"

It was funny at first, but after fifteen or so attempts at pissing L off, it got annoying.

Mello ran out of hideous things to compare L to, so finally, he said.

"Yes, you know what, that's L."

"Really?" Naomi said and clapped her hands.

"Umm... no."

"Dang it."

It was much more entertaining to watch them.

Mello and Naomi smiled icily at each other and when they thought nobody was looking, they circled each other like sharks. Their pleasantries were as fake as their smiles and when they picked up random objects, they savored slow and painful deaths they imagined these objects would bring to each other.

For them, things were normal.

They weren't unused to the odd sensation of having Yagami Light inaccessible to them.

"I miss Raito-kun," mumbled L to Matsuda when everyone else was too busy to listen to him.

Matsuda sighed and gave up sorting through stacks of papers.

"Yeah, me too."

L knew they took Light somewhere else, but to avoid the temptation of visiting him he hadn't asked Matt where to. The team was more than hesitant in terms of telling him. Matsuda and the chief were the only ones who still thought L wasn't L.

"Does Matsuda-san know how he is?"

"He's... bad."

**

* * *

**The air was crisp and the sheets had a pleasant scent of lavender fabric softner; the fabric was soft against his face and the gentle midday light that penetrated the window, curtains and sheets glowed softly against the backs of his eyelids. His eyelashes ticked his cheeks when he blinked and his clean, dry hair fathered against his temples and brow. It was nice.

It was nice behind the bolted doors and bolted windows and curtains and blankets. It was nice. He would not come out.

"Raito, you have to eat."

Light ignored whoever disturbed the fresh scent of his room with the scent of food, and when they approached him, he curled tighter into himself. When they touched his shoulder, he jerked and the paperbag of takeout went flying.

"Raito-"

"Don't touch him, Matsuda," Light heard his father say.

Just great, perfect. His father was here.

"Go away, dad," he told him, but his voice failed him and it came out as a high-pitched whine rather than the demand he wanted it to be.

"Raito, I'm sorry."

_Run._

"Dad, go away. This has nothing to do with you. You don't get to make me feel guilty for feeling responsible yourself. You have nothing to do with this."

"Son-"

"Go away."

"Raito, just eat."

"Will you go away if I eat?"

"I will."

Light's tense muscles unclenched and the cold tingling shot though his sleeping limbs. His fingers and hands and legs were numb and his joints were white from the pressure he's applied to them. The side that supported his entire weight for ten-something hours hurt and his shoulder blade gurgled at him when he tried moving the freed arm. He uncoiled slowly, avoiding all unnecessary movement and clenching tightly at the blanket, he poked his head into to the bright and airy hotel room and cringed.

The light was too bright, the air was too fresh and the lavender scent was sickening. He hid back into his shell immediately, already regretting the decision of coming out, even just for a second. As he uncoiled from his ball, his stomach muscles relaxed and now he was aware that he was starving. His stomach made an embarrassing noise.

Then he saw it: a shadow, tall and dark, looming over him, he could see it though the blanket as it blocked the light, and he backed away from it into the other corner of his plush sanctuary.

The shadow drew nearer and Light pressed himself against the headboard. His teeth chatted. The sickening smell of food made him gag and Light screwed his eyes shut until the white circles at the back of his eyelids became so bright that they blinded him.

And then it was over, the figure went away and warm mass radiated heat though the blanket. After waiting it out, Light cautiously stuck his hand out and felt for whatever it was, grabbed it and stuffed it back under the blankets.

A brown paperbag was warm and delicious hot vapor steamed from the top. Inside his cocoon, food didn't smell disgusting at all, and Light was sure he could manage a few bites.

"Eat," he heard his father say quietly.

Slowly, allowing his fingers trace the dull edges and folds of the bag, Light unwrapped the top and extracted one of at least five triangular packages. He took his time, delicately unwrapping the food and then sniffing it cautiously. It smelled delicious and his stomach growled again. Ignoring the crumbs, Light opened his lips and sunk his teeth into the grilled sandwich.

_Turkey_.

_Delicious_.

He chewed slowly and carefully even though the bite he took was miserable and swallowed after making sure the sandwich bit turned into perfect goo.

Then he took another small bite.

"Good, he's eating," his father said quietly and Light realized his own father has lied to him.

He felt numb.

"You promised you would go away!"

"Only if you eat, son, are you eating?"

Light backtracked the conversation and realized that that was in fact the deal. He took another bite and chewed thoroughly.

"Yes, I'm eating," he said with his mouth full. The crumbs fell to his clean sheets and some got into his shirt, and his back began to itch.

"Good. It will make you feel better, but eat."

"I feel fine, how are you feeling, dad?"

"I'm alright. The team is good, too. They're working really hard to keep you safe, so you don't need to worry."

"What about Ryuzaki?"

"Ryuzaki?'

"How is Ryuzaki?"

"He's good."

"Does he miss me?"

"What?"

"Does he miss me?"

"Yeah, he misses you, Raito, he told me this morning," Light heard Matsuda say.

"Tell him I miss him too."

Light swallowed and considered what else he wanted to know.

"Can he come here?"

"No."

"Instead of Matsuda?"

"No Raito, he can't come here."

"Tell him I miss him."

"We will."

Light ate the rest of the sandwich in silence while he heard whispers he could not make out coming from somewhere outside. He heard someone say 'L' something.

L.

L won.

There was nothing Light could do but stay put and wait for him. He half-heartedly tried again, knowing his poor attempt would fail.

"Can I talk to Misa yet?"

"Not yet Raito, she's safe though. We have put her under surveillance, she's safe from L. She doesn't even need to know she was ever in danger. It's alright. She's safe."

"Can I please talk to her? I miss her too."

"I'm sorry Raito, we can't risk either one of you contacting each other."

"Please?"

"No, I'm sorry. She misses you too, if it helps. She called you twenty eight times today, can you believe it? Maybe you were right about her."

So Misa already knew, and she didn't know what to do.

Without Light, she would do the only logical thing.

He was trapped.

L won.

Light wanted Ryuzaki, Light wanted to say goodbye to him. The idea of Ryuzaki being in the same room with him was safe. Selfishly, Light wanted Ryuzaki to die with him so that he wouldn't have to die alone.

"Can I talk to Ryuzaki?"

"No."

Light absently opened another sandwich and took a bite, and felt evidence of hopelessness stream down his face freely.

_Chicken_.

**--**

"He's scared."

Though a small monitor, L watched the pathetic outline of Light under the blankets twitch slightly and curl up tighter, as if trying to shrink out of existence altogether.

L's lips were numb and lack of sugar in his diet lately had taken a toll on his mood. Sugar kept the adrenaline and the hyper twitches shooting though his body; caffeine kept him exited and awake and _alive_.

L loved drugs, and two overdoses were two overdoses too many. He kicked cocaine and sugar, in large quantities became its replacement.

But what could he do when the pleasant rush and ADD-type distraction weren't welcome in his state of mind? He didn't want it, he didn't want anything cheery, and so a grim flown has taken residence on his face. His eyes were narrow and both Mello and Matt kept their safe distance with guns ready should L decide to go psycho on them.

L supposed it was because Light was gone.

_Soon_, he found himself telling his unsettled mind, _he'll be yours, and no one will ever take him away from you. _

His gut told him that wasn't the problem, and he couldn't figure out what the hell it was for the life of it.

And so he came to this point, lazily slumped in Matt's chair, his legs touching ground and a whiskey at hand, staring at the monitor where a tiny person was terrified of the cracking sounds the furniture made.

It didn't settle. L was watching Light, watching him, and without a single exception, every person he'd watched in such a manner ended up in raw pieces of flesh by morning.

Light was warm, and his skin was warm, and if L touched his lips to the right places, he could hear the lively heartbeat though the warm, tender flesh. Light was a living, breathing person.

L didn't want to imagine him otherwise.

"When is he going to find the damn phone?" he barked, and from somewhere ten safe feet away, Matt told him that they packed six sandwiches in there and Light had to get though most of them before he found it.

L poured himself another glass, but it was too shallow, or the bottle was too empty, or something, but clear butterscotch-colored liquid flew smoothly over the edges of the glass.

L half-emptied it in one swig, and it burned his throat and made him feel warm, though the odd numbness in his joints remained. His cavity-ridden teeth and tender gums felt on fire, but it didn't burn enough.

"Which one of you idiots had the brilliant idea to dilute this with water?"

Mello assured him he was just imagining things after a shot too many, but L knew what his alcohol was supposed to taste like, and Mello and Matt were known to cover their asses. It didn't matter though, the bottle had a deathsentence anyway, watery or not.

And then the status window in the corner of the monitor blinked a green light next to the little bar of Light's phone.

--

Light held the little flip phone with the tips of his fingers by the antennae, much like Ryuzaki would hold it.

It was white, too big, and it had a little old-English L at the back of it, as if to leave no doubt just who it is was from. Light wanted to scream and toss the filthy thing against the wall, he wanted to throw it out of his safe haven, but he knew another one would come. Nowhere was really safe.

His hands shook and his face cringed, and slowly, touching it as little as he could, he opened the thing and dialed Misa.

_Call Failed. _

No surprise there. The sound was disabled and the keypad made no beeping when Light pressed the buttons. So L knew Light was hiding under the blankets where surveillance guys couldn't see what he was doing. Somewhere in a cave full of bats and dripping water, L was sitting and watching him too.

And then the phone shamelessly rang.

Every muscle in Light's body twitched and every blood cell went haywire.

He tore the blankets off and without giving it a second thought, he tossed the phone against the wall: it did some damage and bounced off to the carpet, but it did not stop ringing. Instead it lay there, tiny, alive and breathing, and Light glared at it, willing it to blow up and die.

L must be having a blast watching him.

Suddenly conscious of how stupid he must look, Light hopped off gracefully, casually retrieved the phone back to the bed and dropped it to ring away on the blankets. He was wearing pajamas, and suppressing the mental image of himself climbing up on the bed awkwardly, Light climbed up on the bed awkwardly, folded his legs under himself and straightened his back before facing the phone like he would face a person, with the phone sitting a foot away from him with the speaker option on.

"L," he greeted dryly.

"Light," a high-pitched mechanical voice greeted him back, and all Light could do to suppress the odd jolt of electricity down his spine was to stay as still as he could.

"What is it now," Light told the phone. A pause at the other end indicated L wasn't amused.

"Aren't you in the least bit curious how I managed to pull this off?"

"No," Light declared.

"Alright."

It was quiet for a while, and Light debated if L went through all this supposed trouble just to hang up on him.

"I want to apologize," the cold voice scrambler sounded as apologetic as a toaster would be after burning the bread to coal, "for all wrongs I have done to you."

Light said nothing. What could he say? It wasn't his _place_ to speak.

Mentally, Light spat at the notion of accepting the apology.

"So you seek forgiveness before you do away with people? That's a case development," he muttered icily, not flinching or giving in to the need to toss the phone against the wall again.

"I think you know that isn't what I plan on doing."

Light considered. If L wanted to have _this_ conversation...

"Is the surveillance off?"

"Yes."

"_All_ of it?"

"Yes."

He shouldn't have asked; it didn't matter anyway. L might as well lie, and if the voice recorders were on, Light only had hours of freedom left anyway.

"Well then," Light debated a moment more before smiling a humorless smile and declaring in an unnaturally animated tone, "well, you fucking bastard."

"Thank you."

"How did you know?"

"Misa Amane."

"Is she running yet?"

"She is about to."

Light frowned bitterly.

"L, I have a request," Light tried to sound reasonable, and not desperate at all.

"Your request isn't a priority," L shot him down, "I will deal with this once what I have to say is said."

Light frowned again, subconsciously straightening his back even further made his joints ache.

"Right. You want to apologize," Light mimicked cruelly.

"I thought perhaps we will attempt to work things out before you are in my possession."

"Right." Phones were vulnerable to being battered with heavy objects. Light went though the list of everything in the room that would do the job.

"I'd like to know what has upset you most."

"Nothing L, you're perfect."

"I suspect it was the shower incident."

"Good guess."

"It was a whim, Light. I am sorry about that; it was not worth mental anguish it had caused you. I apologize."

"What's my state of mind to you?"

"I can't have you unresponsive."

Light felt his lower lip twitch in disgust and said nothing.

L continued.

"You were quite alright with our arrangement before the incident, were you not?"

"I was fucking glorious, what about you?"

"I am sorry one stupid stunt has made you change your mind so drastically."

"Stop saying you're sorry. You sound like an idiot."

"On the contrary, I regret the consequences. But you're right. Not my actions."

Light sighed.

"Our latest encounter," the voice reminded him, and all self-control Light had over his still figure was lost and a heavy shudder tore though his body. "Did you like that?"

Physically it was fine.

Mentally though, it was far worse than anything. His father looking down at him in the tub, the team gathering around him, looking at him pitifully, everything... it was humiliating, it was the worst, worst next to only knowing that from then on, safety and privacy was an unimaginable luxury he would never have again.

"Sure."

"Was the ice alright?"

"It was fine, now drop it!" Light snapped. "My _request!_"

L understood not to push the matter further, or the phone _will_ suffer.

"I am listening to your request now."

"Ryuzaki Rue."

"Your boyfriend."

"Ryuzaki Rue," Light reminded, "if you're gonna change your mind and kill me... you know what, even if you won't kill me-"

"You want me to spare your boyfriend's life?" mechanical voice hit a note of amusement.

"No. I want you to kill Ryuzaki no matter what happens to me. I will be in hell whether I live or die. I want Ryuzaki in hell, too."

It was quiet.

The pause was long enough for Light to consider the possibility L hung up on him and went after Ryuzaki right away.

"That's quite selfish," the phone said after a few minutes.

---

"Uh, chief?"

"What's wrong Matsuda?"

"Misa Amane-"

"Good god!"

"No! She's fine, she just..."

"What?"

"She ran away, sir."

L smiled inwardly from his chair; it was too late to change anything, why would he, it was such a brilliant, flawless plan. But it would put Light though hell, and it wasn't a problem before, but suddenly L wanted nothing more than to make Light feel safe.

He felt sick; all the acid and dry sucrose from the whiskey boiled upwards from his stomach and he had to grip onto the arms of his chair not to heave at once.

What had he done?

Naomi noticed this. To hell with her.

"What? Why?"

"Don't know. We're tracking her. She just grabbed a few books and took off."

---

He stormed into the penthouse and startled Mello.

"What the fuck _else_ can I do wrong?!"

"What?" Said Mello, apparently confused.

"The Yagami! How much-"

"What are you yelling at me for? I'm still in trauma! Rape victim here, hello? Be more considerate," said Mello and swirled his hair around his finger. Hair-swirling meant the place was bugged. L rolled his eyes.

"I have generously allowed you to stay on my premises," L recited for whoever was listening, "it's your responsibility to hear me bitch! Now Yagami wouldn't take my donut-"

Mello took the hint and demanded L takes him to four-in-the-morning-breakfast.

"They're on to you," Mello said when they got into the car.

"Mello's observations are impeccable."

"Naomi's pushing for your classified Ryuzaki Rue records."

"How long?"

"Matt's got no clue. Very soon, you'll be one fucked, dead L."

"Thank you Mello, that is exactly what I needed to hear."

"You're welcome."

"I'm sure."

"A warrant for Yagami Light's arrest was issued ten minutes ago, by the way."

A warrant for Light's arrest was out.

_Just as planned._ L cringed.

"Well you look happy your plan is working," Mello sized up L critically, "I say, you ditch the whole plan thing."

L must have looked very angry, because when he saw Mello's hand inch for his gun, L apologized.

"I will not hurt Mello."

"Mello's not sure about that anymore."

"Mello-"

"Mello really thinks you should ditch this whole thing, it's really getting to you. I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"I can't," L unbuckled the seatbelt and hugged his knees. Mello looked at him pitifully and almost smashed the car against a streetlight pole.

"There's something wrong with you, you know that?"

A phone rang somewhere and abandoning all navigating of the car, Mello produced a very typical of Mello LG Chocolate.

L was sick of _phones_.

"Matt... - oh for fucks sake! - yes he's here. - no, are you kidding me, I'm not saying- Matt, drop it. - No, if you don't drop it, I'll polish that bike of you with your intestines. - Dude, shut up. - Seriously. – I'm not...- No. - Well fuck you too!"

L did not comment on the conversation or Mello's suddenly degraded mood when Mello sped though two traffic lights.

"I fucking swear, one day he'll wake up with a bullet in his head."

"I assume what he had to say wasn't an intelligence report."

"No, it's a fucking _message_ for _you_."

"And-?"

"And he's been bugging me all day with it! 'Tell him man, tell him, you gotta tell him'!"

"Tell me what?"

"Matt," Mello flashed his teeth angrily, "would like _me_ to tell _you_ that _he_ has a very bad _feeling_ about your plan."

"A bad feeling?"

"You have no idea how annoying that idiot is!" Mello whipped his long blonde hair around.

L's own phone rang, and when L saw an unlisted number on the caller ID, he blinked to double check. This was the first time Matt has called L himself.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mello fumed.

"Matt," L answered.

"Uh... hi. I just gotta tell you, about your plan, well… sorry to call you by the way," came the stream of awkwardness from the other line.

"Yes, Matt?"

"I have a really bad feeling."

* * *

Light: What? I'm getting arrested? Why? (theories plz).

A/N: …oh, the heavy symbolism of a chicken sandwich!

Light: Oh, your burnt, crispy fingers.

L: Oh, the fast phase of the chapter! Next two chappies are the really cool stuff.

Light: The end is near!

L: Not even close.

A/N: DELAYED UPDATE IS DELAYED!** REVIEW PLEASE, I LOVE YOU ALL!!**

l

l

l

V


	14. The Simplicity

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I love my gran; my gran is making me a loli dress, and I love my gran and I love the dress and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important**

**CH14**

**The Simplicity  
**

Chief Soichiro Yagami had a heart attack at five-forty in the morning upon an arrest warrant for his son Light Yagami being handed to him by an overenthusiastic Misora Naomi.

To this, L supposed he should feel indifferent because in no way had it influenced his plan.

And yet... the first thing he did when Light was delivered to the hospital in handcuffs (no surprises how he pulled that one off), was scrutinize him.

Which also should have provoked no feelings in L.

But when uncuffed and furious, Light launched at him from across the hospital waiting room, L wanted nothing but to break a bone or two, or at least dislocate something, and he intended to, if Mogi and Matsuda didn't drag them apart before Light even made contact. The men threw them into two opposite corners where they were to remain under threats of removal from investigation, and handcuffs.

L didn't want to stop though.

Something about Light's fake smiles and fake grief and manipulation and whatever else had convinced police to take him to a hospital en route to jail seriously ticked L off.

Or maybe it were the fake smiles, fake grief, fake moans and screams and sweet nothings Light showed nobody but 'Ryuzaki' that in reality were all lies and lies and lies?

Maybe it was the Chief. L liked him. This _was_ Light's fault.

Or the people Light had indirectly done away with.

_I am such a hypocrite..._

To hate and scrutinize Light for these things wasn't very fair because L did all this and more; but L was allowed, because, and Light wasn't.

His life was now full of things that lacked explanations, and 'because' was a comforting word only if L could come up with a 'because'.

L wanted a scotch.

"Raito-kun is quite close to his father."

"So what?" Light said defensively.

"I believe the notion of Raito-kun as God has originated from his father."

Light looked ready to stab L with a pen in the eye. L stood his ground and his shoulders felt stiff as he erected them and sat up straight. The subject was too good to drop.

"Raito-kun has adopted precisely the ideas Freud cautioned people about. As a child, Raito-kun has looked up to his father to satisfy his needs for guidance and protection, and as he had grown into an adult, he looked for this parental guidance in higher powers, thus Raito-kun has turned to God as a more powerful fatherly figure. Raito-kun has very high opinions of his own father, does he not?"

"I know my Freud, Ryuzaki," Light muttered coolly.

"Indeed. However Raito-kun has perverted Freud-"

"Ryuzaki!"

"Freud implies childishness of such beliefs; this does make one wonder about legitimacy of Raito-kun's convictions..."

"Shut up!"

"Finding holy guidance within _yourself_, finding _ego_ a fatherly figure is rather-"

Light launched at L but Matsuda managed to catch him by the elbow and push him back to his side of the waiting room.

"Calm down you two!" he yelled, agitated, and then as if having had an epiphany, lowered his voice into an awkward whisper, "we're at a hospital! Shh!"

"So are you God, Raito-kun?"

As Light replied with a highly educated set of unpleasanties, L took a moment to recognize the awful turn the conversation has taken.

When had L become so nasty to Light?

"But as God, you have fallen, Raito-kun. Who have you to turn to if you are the fallen God?"

This hate, it came so naturally.

Though Light showed no signs of mental anguish, L was sure that on some subconscious level, L's words hurt him, and it hurt L to realize he enjoyed inflicting this pain.

Light was a nasty thing to deal with.

What happened?

Light was a scared, innocent, drunk and helpless thing, hanging limply in L's arms like paperweight as L carried him to the cheap motel that fateful night at the Koi Pond. So when had Light turn into this ugly monstrosity that poisoned everything around him?

How long has he been poisoning everything around him?

L couldn't tell; L didn't even catch the process until it was too late. He was poisoned too.

L was disgusted with himself. He had enough poison of his own, so Light's didn't do much damage... but along with poison, hateful and disturbing kind of love slipped into L's rotten soul and settled.

It was a delicious thing, this love.

Or maybe it was L's own poison, seeping slowly into Light though saliva and semen, rusting Light's beautiful soul... was it L's fault?

"Umm, Ryuzaki-san...? Are you okay?"

L took time to take in his own appearance.

With both feet planted firmly on the beige linoleum of the hospital waiting room, he leaned confidently into the stiff back of the chair. His arms rested calmly on the backs of two chairs he sat between. His back was straight and his shoulders were drawn back, the furthest thing from slouching. But worst of all were the muscles of his face. They were stiff and this meant the corners of his lips must have been twitched upwards, his chin must be raised and his eyes must be narrowed into angry black slits.

"You look really scary..." Matsuda muttered verily.

Across the room, Light was completely the opposite.

"I am angry at Raito-kun for being the leader of a mass-murdering cult while investigating another mass murderer," he reasoned out loud.

But L knew full well _what_ he looked like at that very moment.

Mogi didn't buy it.

_Because Mogi's opinion really mattered. _

L mentally rolled his eyes.

And when L spied on Light when he was finally allowed into his father's recovery room, L knew one thing: he did not want to know what Light was thinking, feeling or going through. Soichiro Yagami could barely speak, and the snippets of the conversation that L caught were things like 'how could you', 'don't believe you' and 'disappointed'.

Things had to go on.

In a funeral procession, Light was cuffed again and taken away.

Misa Amane was stupid. As a clear Kira leader or whatever she was in that cult, L bothered to learn nothing about it.

Light did not predict being taken away, nor had L, and really, Mello's little stunt worked in L's favor.

Once Light was taken away, all L had to do was to demonstrate just in how much danger Light was in, and then casually drop Misa's name and how she was as good as done for.

Light had all contacts with outside world severed then and there so L wouldn't be able to track him down.

Misa Amane was placed under protective surveillance of police.

Which would freak out an innocent person, no doubt. But when Amane had much to hide and without guidance of her 'leader' (or something), she did the only logical thing she could think of: she is suspected of being Kira, thus she should _run_.

And that's what she did, taking evidence in a form for a black notebook with her. Namely, the cult's hit-list, a Death Note.

She was caught and discovered with these things. Now Light had two Kira girlfriends.

One can't help but doubt Light's innocence, and when similar notebooks were conveniently found in Light's apartment, well.

Of course Light wasn't stupid to have these things just lying around, not at all, but L had a key to Light's place, pair of hands, some money for the notebooks and a few hours on his hands.

It was easy.

To take down Light's castle, just like that. Easy.

L did not know much about this castle, what was in it, what went on in it, what it was about, Light's hopes, or ambitions, or anything Light wanted to accomplish by sniping a few criminals... L knew nothing about it, L didn't even think about it much.

Which was a waste, now that he had done it. There must have been a solid fundament under it, something that was precious to Light... but how precious could something be when Light had it for no more than a few weeks?

L cringed at the mental association. L had _Light_ for not much more than double that.

_No._

_Ah hell. _

Who was he kidding?

He was questioning his own decisions.

_Was_ Light's worth this much?

---

"...he's in jail for god's sake!"

"He agreed to it until we figure out a batter arrangement for him," Misora reasoned calmly. Mogi didn't budge.

"He's suicidal, than! L can yank him out of jail in three minutes, and we're just standing here!"

Misora calmly sipped at her Starbucks.

So did Mello, bravely hiding behind L as L preached Misora in a manner similar to that of Mogi's.

"And kill twenty or so guards on his way. Raito-kun needs to stay here."

"Neither of the Ls will touch him because both Ls are here," the woman smiled and somewhere behind her, Rye Penber smacked his palm against his forehead.

L's eyes narrowed.

"What was that, Naomi-san?" he droned neutrally.

"Tell you what," she said, "we'll bring Raito here; it's not impossible to get him released to us if we make... a deal with him."

"Raito isn't stupid. He _will_ serve as bait in exchange for immunity because it is his only option, now I do not understand why respectable Japanese police," L purposely raised his voice and turned to give the men a meaningful look, "has not done so already, seeing as the FBI has absolutely no jurisdiction or authority in this _country_."

The tall woman laughed femininely.

"Of course Ryuzaki-san! I just wanted to drag the whole team here for an added effect."

"Yes, Naomi-san?"

"See, I got a message for both Ls here."

L rolled his eyes, and Matsuda suppressed a giggle; _'what has this crazy woman come up with now?'_

"I just want L," Naomi motioned to L, "and Yotsuba-L," and she pointed to Mello who in turn let his teeth sparkle away at her, "to know that Raito Yagami is up for grabs, here, and you're more than welcome to take him once he gets here. I dare ya," she winked.

"Ah. I shall pass on this message once I meet them for our afternoon tea."

Things had to go on.

As expected, Light was escorted back into Ryuzaki Rue's premises. He denied being Kira and did some other things that L ignored.

L really wanted that scotch, and when L realized Light denied his guilt to everyone who would listen _but_ L, L changed his mind and wanted straight-up Vodka.

L spent hours cornering Light, trying to get him alone, but it seemed no matter where he went, there were people there, and Light was purposely avoiding being trapped in a room with L.

"Raito-kun!" L began when Matsuda fled the copy-room while Light was still copying a rather large and useless Biology textbook he claimed was vital for the L investigation.

"Yes, Ryuzaki?" he asked coyly but before L could open his mouth, the copy machine gave a puff of smoke and splattered some ink.

"Shit," Light gasped dramatically and slipped past Ryuzaki, "Mogi knows how to fix it, I'll get him."

L trailed Light like a puppy wherever he went. Main office, coffee room, copy room, cubicle, storage closet, everywhere. Light weaseled past him every time with one excuse or another, coolly brushing him off every time, and L had enough.

In a ten-second interval L created by dumping out all of office coffee into a potted palm plant, he grabbed Light by the wrist and dragged him into a washroom.

Ryuzaki Rue's premises were actually a brand new office building the man had planned on selling the following spring, and the clean, unused bathroom in the far corridor of the main floor was freshly-tiled in white, completed with a row of sinks and a row of stalls and the construction dust was still fresh and even the tile paste still smelled chalky.

It was a far women's washroom. Nobody would use it.

Without putting much thought into it, L grabbed Light on the hips, lifted him and briskly threw him on top of the long sink counter. Light cursed him and kicked him away, but L grabbed the two soft thighs and in a single rough motion spread the long legs apart, slipped into the temporary gap and pulled the beautiful brunette head by hair to crash into his lips.

Light tasted the same.

Light was the same boy L got obsessed with. Yes.

The kiss was rough and Light clearly did not approve, and shortly after the initial shock Light's teeth clenched and L tore away with a bleeding lip.

"Fuck off!" the brunette finally managed and the thighs L was very comfortable between preformed some obscene maneuver that nearly ended up with L being sacked. Now L did not approve; and in a maneuver of his own he got Light pinned against the back mirror by the shoulders.

The mirror gave a pleading squeak.

"What is wrong with Raito-kun!"

"What's wrong with me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Evidentially, Light had put up a fight. His parted rosy lips gaped in rhythm with his breathing and his chest raised and fell haphazardly. His hair wasn't perfect, his clothes were ruffled and thread stuck out where the buttons of his shirt used to be. He had a red mark on his cheek that would soon turn blue.

When had L done _that_?

"Raito-kun, I-"

"Fuck you!" Light tore violently from L's arms, but still in mild shock and confusion, L pressed Light further into the mirror.

Light's beautiful face flinched but did not recover, adopting a mask of affliction instead. The brilliant caramel eyes narrowed, but not in anger, no.

L knew that face.

"You're - hurting me!" Light managed, his voice shaking. L looked at his hands where he was holding Light down. His knuckles were white and blood pooled around where his fingertips sunk into the cream shirt.

There was a dull crack and a lighting spread across the mirror from where Light was pressed into it, threatening to break any time.

It took effort to let go, the numb muscles of his hands almost refusing to give. L knew his strength, and this was its peak.

Light wrestled out and jumped away from L, clearly in panic because he did not jump towards the exit but rather to the end of the narrow washroom and backed away, staring at L in horror.

L looked at his hands. His jagged fingernails had tiny cotton fibers stuck in them, along with some skin and some blood.

L didn't mean to do that.

L wasn't even angry with Light!

All he wanted to do was to have a talk.

Why the hell did he do _this_?

Light backed further away and eventually met a tiled wall.

L looked at him then, feeling remorse and hoping it was showing on his face, but Light looked as terrified as ever.

"Raito-kun-" slowly, L started toward the brunette.

"Get the – the hell away from me or I'll scream, I swear I will!"

There was a fifty percent chance he would be heard before L would get to him... not that L was thinking of a good use of this percentage, he wasn't. He tried not to.

"Raito-kun, I'm sorry, I-"

"You fucking what Ryuzaki? You-" but Light's voice peaked dangerously, enough for it to count as screaming, and before L realized what happened, his hand was clamping the pretty lips shut and Light was fighting with all he had to get away.

No, this was wrong.

All of this, it was wrong.

L was stronger than Light, by a lot, more for the sake of profession than anything else, and for the same reasons he had kept his strength leveled with Light when they had one of their delicious fights.

This wasn't one of them. This one was pathetic on Light's part.

L guessed it took at least ten minutes of manhandling the brunette and blocking his failed blows while keeping his mouth shut to finally get him to calm down on the cold tiles of the women's washroom.

Light was breathing heavily and L was just fine.

"Done?" L heard his own voice come out in a low hiss.

Light tensed immensely but then his whole body went limp.

L knew this reaction too.

Bad, this was _bad_. This was a response Light had to L, not Ryuzaki.

_Bad_.

"I believe Raito-kun is having a panic attack," he cleared his throat and adjusted his tone to neutral, "will he listen to me now?"

Light didn't move at all.

L tired again.

"I apologize for the predicament we are in, however Raito-kun must understand the blame is partial as well. I apologize for hitting you, I am sorry. I do not know how it spun out of control, however Raito-kun must understand if I were to allow you to scream, Misora Naomi would be boasting how she caught L in tomorrow's headlines."

L didn't move still, and L checked if Light was breathing.

"Raito-kun must display signs of life!" It was a joke, and L was surprised at it.

Light must be to, but Light did not move.

"Raito-kun..." L loosed his unnecessary grip and lowered himself onto the tile behind Light. He still pressed the palm of his hand into the swollen lips, but allowed his free hand to wrap around Light's waist instead and pull him into closer.

Light curled into himself, and L hugged him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered gently into the silky hair once Light had his back pressed firmly into L's chest. "You're shivering. Calm down, its okay. Come here. Yes, that's right. There."

Light was trembling. The floor was cold after all.

"I'm sorry. When this is all over, I'm going to teach you how to fly a helicopter, wouldn't you like that? I promised you a tennis match, we can do that too. Would you like to have our tennis match?"

Light's shivering eased as L applied his hand to rub soothing circles into Light's shoulders. He ignored where tiny red dots arced across the pale beige fabric.

Finally, Light whispered and L could barely hear it, but maybe that was just an excuse for asking what Light said in hopes of a differed statement.

"I hate you."

L thought about it absently, and his reply came a few minutes later.

"I am sorry you feel that way."

"Hate me back. Do you hate me back?"

"I do not know," L really didn't know.

"You should."

L spun Light to lie on his back; there were no tears and L slight felt relief.

"How is Kira-kun feeling?"

"Fuck you."

L lifted the boy to his feet and Light put up no fight when he was placed back on top of the counter once again.

"I am sorry about your shirt," L said, examining the damage before pulling out some papertowel form the dispenser.

"Don't apologize, it makes you sound stupid."

So L said nothing when he opened the torn shirt and washed the little blood away from the curvy, tanned shoulders. The shirt was ruined, and L mentally noted to take Light upstairs and give him one of his own three-quarter v-neck cotton shirts.

He gave Light a folded, wet papertowel to hold to his face where he hit him before taking Light's hand and working each nail clean from blood and skin Light managed to scrape away from L's body.

When he was done, he tried to kiss Light's cheek, but Light turned away.

L sighed, and tried to apologize in a way he was sure Light would appreciate.

Instead, the hips jumped away when L as much as touched the zipper of Light's jeans and a knee prodded him in the chest to prevent him from trying again.

"No."

No...?

It echoed in the empty bathroom like a gunshot.

Light never rejected L or Ryuzaki Rue after he had consent to touch the boy in any way he liked. Light couldn't say no because he was a thing, a property. He had rights to reject L.

"Rai-" L tried again only to have his hand firmly smacked away.

"I said, no."

L's face became strained and he struggled to keep it from turning angry.

"There is nothing like getting a blowjob from a person superior to you in so many ways, so why I beg your pardon _not_?"

Light's open palm struck L across the face.

And then he gracefully slid from the counter to the floor and looked _down_ at L, and walked away just as gracefully, causally, and slowly.

**

* * *

**"Get me Matt."

"Why?"

"I want to listen to his bad feelings."

"What, why?"

"So he can talk me out of this whole idiocy!"

"Uh..."

"Mello, why the hell haven't _you_ talked me out of it by now?!"

"What the hell you blaming this shit on me for?"

"Nevermind."

L groaned angrily and went straight for the box Mello kept liquor in.

"You almost killed him, didn't you."

That wasn't a question, and Mello was lucky he ducked well because that bottle of scotch L was lusting over the whole day smashed a foot away from Mello's head.

"_What the fuck!_"

"You- you need to... you need to know less, okay?" L slumped onto Matt's couch and took his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, come here."

A moment later, L had a handful of Barbie in his hands, and he was clutching desperately at it. The Barbie handed him a big mug full of what looked like water but smelled quite differently. It was time to talk.

"Whacha thinking?" Mello's fingers threaded though L's hair and L sighed and allowed it.

"I almost killed him and I don't know how it happened."

"Did he provoke you?"

"No, no he didn't. He was just _there._ I hit him, and I don't even remember doing it."

Mello's voice lowered into a purr and L rested his head against his chest to allow the vibrations to soothe him.

"This ever happen before?"

"Yes."

"You killed them?"

"Slowly."

"Did it hurt?"

"It felt wonderful."

"But this one hurts you."

"Yes." The sake Mello'd given him was spiked.

"You know you will end up killing him, right?"

"I don't want to. I don't, Mello, I really don't. I want him to be... happy. Is that weird? I want him happy."

"Near you?"

"Yes. I love his... entity. He has quite a mind, you know?"

"The whole Kira business?"

"Not that. I haven't even bothered with that, I haven't thought about it nor do I intend to. It feels... silly. You know how I feel about myself; in light of that... his... attempt at killing is petty, it mares the beauty of his soul, it's almost... lame."

"Is that what makes you angry? You want to hurt him for that?"

"If I hurt him, I hurt myself. Every time I hurt him it's like... I chip away at his soul, at that something that I like so much, you know?"

---

It was seven in the morning and L wore a black raincoat, a pair of khaki pants and a green shirt with a skull on it. His wig itched and the baseball hat he wore backwards did nothing to ease the discomfort.

L blamed society and its idiotic collective taste in ridiculous, uncomfortable clothing that he had to follow every time he had an outing of this sort.

The function of underwear was in its very name, and yet some day some smart teenager decided to pull his pants down. L figured if someone was to rebel, they should have went all-out. He should have worn the underwear on his head instead; it was much more practical that way seeing as it rained.

The street was empty; this was a good thing.

Mogi was a pleasant man. His humor was good, he was fair, and he knew how to appreciate tea. He also liked to show up for work early; he also liked taking shortcuts though sleepy neighborhoods, but never dark alleys.

So when Mogi saw L leaning against a streetlight pole in a raincoat, a pair of khaki pants, a green shirt with a skull on it and a brown wig, he immediately recognized his face and almost smiled pleasantly, but in a moment's notice his face blanked and he dropped his leather bag and reached for his gun in a sudden realization, but of course it was too late.

L's berretta, fitted with a custom silencer, clicked dully and Mogi Kanzo's body collapsed in the middle of the empty street.

**

* * *

**

L: Excuse Miss King as she was unable to attend this A/N.

Light: 'Cause she's crying.

L: In her absence –

Light: _I_ will take over the **THANKING ALL REVIEWERS FOR REVIEWING. KING LOVES YOU. **You know what you want to do. You want to kill her. Good. Me too. **Do this by pressing the magic button. **

l

l

l

V


	15. Twelve

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I had sex with GrimmIchi from Bleach for a month (sry I cheated), and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**II: Things Important**

**CH15**

**Twelve**

It had been thirteen days since Mogi's funeral, and Light supposed this day was significant because the day before, it was twelve days since Mogi's funeral.

Ironically, the day before was also February 12th, and being confounded to one of many prison-like floors of Ryuzaki Rue's investigation quarters, Light was left bored and alone, and his mind, a traitorous machine that it was, couldn't help but dance around the fact that on February 12th, it had been 12 days since Mogi's funeral.

But twelve didn't really matter.

What mattered was the sour expression on Ryuzaki's face, the way discontent radiated from his person and soaked into Light's clothes and the way he stood rooted to the carpet just before the last step leading into Light's safe prison.

Ryuzaki hadn't dared to cross that step ever since Light was assigned this floor.

It didn't matter what numbers made up today, it was the day itself that mattered.

Today, Light was finally going to forgive Ryuzaki.

Gingerly, he stepped aside and expression on Ryuzaki's face was priceless. His sleep-deprived, bitter and grumpy eyes widened, vaguely resembling the owlish expression Ryuzaki always wore oh so long ago, and his pursed lips loosened just enough for Light to notice.

"Raito-kun is... sure?" he said carefully as if Light's change of heart was a fragile thing Ryuzaki somehow held with his voice.

Light shrugged, keeping his annoyed stare locked with the man's black eyes.

"I am about to change my mind," he droned coolly.

Ryuzaki nearly jumped in, closing the door behind him as if Light would push him out if he hadn't.

And there they stood, in the narrow hallway, awkwardly listening to each other's breathing. The foot of space between them felt like a cliff.

Light turned and gracefully dragged his feet across floor, and surely enough Ryuzaki followed him, his own shuffling far from the gracefulness Light had done it with. And Ryuzaki's been shuffling for his entire life; Light almost praised himself for learning to do it better in just a few weeks.

They sat across each other at an expensive kitchen isle, and the isle felt like a mountain.

Cliff, mountain...

"Raito-kun, I am sor-" Ryuzaki began.

"Enough of that, I hear it every day."

"Ah," was all Ryuzaki said, and the pause stretched the space between them even further, yet its awkwardness still was more comfortable than talking.

"I've been thinking," Light spoke, and his voice dead and almost bitter, "I hate you."

"I understand."

"You deserve to die."

"I understand, I have hurt Raito-kun enough to deserve that."

A lie, a pretty lie.

"I guess you saying that counts for something, even if it's not true."

Ryuzaki held his peace with this one.

"I've been thinking some more."

"Yes?"

"We should get back together."

It startled Ryuzaki if the familiar 'I-am-surprised-the-Earth-is-round' expression that fell out of Ryuzaki's 'expressions-used' list for the longest while was anything to go by, but as expected, Ryuzaki expected it. There were no surprises why they were sitting at a kitchen isle with a mountain between them; the surprise was that Light allowed them to sit at the kitchen isle at all.

"I would like to hear Raito-kun's reasons," Ryuzaki said reluctantly, as if expecting mustard gas to sip out of Light's nostrils and kill him dead.

"I look like a pitiful piece of shit. It depresses me to look at you."

"Raito-kun does not look much better. Has he been taking the anti-depressants assigned to him?"

"...yes," Light hissed, making it clear he hasn't been taking the pills, and there was nothing Ryuzaki or anyone on the team could do about it.

"I see."

"Do you agree to this, Ryuzaki?"

"I would like to hear Raito-kun's conditions, although yes, I have as good as accepted this."

Light snorted.

"Fuck conditions. Doesn't look like I'll enjoying _life_ for much longer either way, so I might as well take advantage of the time I have-"

"The team has been working hard to-"

"Fuck the team," Light snorted again and felt his voice tremble in anger, "if L gets me, I'm his fucktoy for life, if he can't get me, he'll kill me, if he leaves me alone, I'll rot in prison for being Kira," Ryuzaki gave him a meaningful look, and Light added, "...which I'm not."

"Of course."

"I can't go outside, I can't do anything, I can't talk to anyone, all I can do is wait for one of those three things."

"..."

"It sucks. There's nothing to do and I want to kill myself."

He saw Ryuzaki _bite_ when the man's eyebrows (which Light had to imagine) furrowed in disapproval. Good.

"...So I might as well take advantage of what I have."

"And that would be...?"

"Sex. I like it."

"Really."

"Yeah. Let's fuck."

Ryuzaki's eyes pleasantly widened some more and he searched the ceiling for something to say.

Light sighed. Yes. This was the man he knew.

"What?"

Ryuzaki still said nothing. And then it hit Light, and it was amusing beyond belief. He felt a smirk twist his lips upwards, and it felt good. He hadn't smiled in a while.

"_Really_?" This was almost funny. "No! Really?"

"What is Raito-kun talking about?"

"Hah! Wow. You want sappy shit."

The pitiful thing curled inwards and most certainly looked like it wanted sappy shit, though it shook its head and said otherwise.

"Hah," Light mused in wonder. _Come on, bite..._

It surprised him when... _Ryuzaki_ bit twice in a row and finally let a stiff 'maybe' slip from his lips in defeat.

"You want affection, Ryuzaki. Hah."

With that, Light did the thing most typical of Yagami Light.

He slid from the chair gracefully and took off, swaying his hips just enough to keep Ryuzaki's attention on his behind rather than anywhere Light may have slipped.

Had he noticed...?

Casually, almost angrily, Light pulled off the tennis shirt he was wearing and tossed it somewhere aside. Ryuzaki only grunted, and Light turned his head to stare at him, annoyed.

The man didn't look confused or disappointed, he didn't look like anything, though Light sincerely hoped the idiot was feeling _lost_.

Instead of teasing, Light rolled his eyes and turned around fully, feeling the hairs at his back rise and nipples and lips perk slightly as involuntary response to being seen intimately, and Ryuzaki gave a soft gasp.

Sex-deprived hermits.

"This is called a hint, you idiot," Light droned.

Ryuzaki took the hint.

He kissed him, carefully holding the back of Light's neck as his lips danced across Light's softly. Light opened up for the man to just get on with it and make it into the casual fuck that it was supposed to be, but Ryuzaki never entered his mouth or fought his tongue with his own, he simply licked Light's trembling lips and kissed their corners.

Why were his lips trembling?

"I missed you," Ryuzaki whispered into his open mouth and Light suppressed the vague recognition with a dirty thought of the man bending him over and fucking him into the headboard.

The one thing he knew Ryuzaki, in his present state, would never do.

So he stood there, shirtless and shivering in humiliation of being so totally wrong about everything there was to be wrong about... about Ryuzaki.

The shredded black locks brushed softly against his cheek and cool, scratcy lips worshipped his neck and shoulder, and Light threw his head back.

"Just fuck me. It'll make things so much easier," he pleaded, but Ryuzaki only wrapped a hand around his waist and pushed him to sit on his knees on the soft carpet, only to fall down to Light's level himself and kiss his body and touch his chest with those cool fingers.

He couldn't stand this. He took Ryuzaki by the shoulders and pushed him away, and there they sat, awkwardly on the floor, looking at eachother without much to say.

"Raito-kun..." the man tipped his chin and held it, looking into his eyes almost... sadly. Light imagined he must have looked pretty damn depressed as well.

"Let me," and without much hesitation, Light reached for the hem of Ryuzaki's jeans and with the last of his resolve tugged the zipper open and fisted a limp, warm organ. The man said nothing, just looked down at Light's hand in his pants.

"Sit properly," the man complied and Light pulled the length out completely, stroking it lightly as he crawled onto Ryuzaki's lap.

It wasn't even an erection. Yet. Light stroked it harder and felt the man give a slight jerk into his hand. Good. In no time at all it was up, and Ryuzaki's sweaty forehead rested against his shoulder, and the man panted heavily and Light panted with him, realizing his own pants were too damn tight.

A trail of clear pre-cum sipped though Ryuzaki's slit and Light swallowed hard and leaned down to pick it up with his tongue.

Bitter.

Ryuzaki tasted bitter, unpleasant.

He must have taken too long; his hair was fisted and Light screwed his eyes shut, anticipating to have his fave showed into Ryuzaki's crotch, but instead Ryuzaki pulled him away slightly.

That's right.

Ryuzaki wouldn't do something like that anymore.

"Raito-kun o-obviously does no... not want to do this," Ryuzaki panted, his words still legible, and Light felt a little jealous that the freak was still able to string together perfect sentences while at this point, in Ryuzaki's arms Light would be bucking his hips and cursing the world.

"It's okay," he said and used his hand to guide the thick erection to his mouth and have the large tip a brave lick.

Didn't taste any better.

Light went on and lapped at the tip, jerking the man off and using the flat of his tongue against the sides. The ejaculate became more cloudily, and Ryuzaki rubbed circles into Light's back reached for Light's behind that was shamelessly sticking out due to their position on the floor, pulled his pants low enough to get them out of the way and pushed at least two fingers in because Light hissed and gagged around Ryuzaki's searing member in his mouth.

"It h-h-aas been a w-while," Ryuzaki said, still quite legibly. Light cursed and pushed against the fingers, rocking into them slightly and at the same time rocking his mouth.

Ryuzaki finally let a suppressed moan break free, and before Light could get him to make any more of those uncontrolled noises, Ryuzaki pulled himself out of Light's mouth and entrance, and Light cringed at the motion because his own neglected erection was jerked very pleasantly and he couldn't do a damn thing about it until Ryuzaki quickly freed him from his pants completely, fisted him and pumped him while tipping him to fall on his back...

He pulled his legs apart and pushed against all muscles that didn't want his large freakin' dick inside, and suddenly Light was full, in pain, and writhing in pleasure under the man who drove into him over and over again.

Neither lasted very long.

Ryuzaki came first, shooting his hot semen deep inside of Light, and Light tried to scream but all that came from his gaping mouth were the noises a man made when he was choking on air in pleasure.

How Ryuzaki kept his hand moving during an orgasm was beyond Light, but a few uneven hard thrusts into Ryuzaki's fist later, Light came and collapsed onto the carpet.

They gained their breaths and Ryzaki pulled off his own shirt to clean himself up before tugging his softening members back into his pants and getting up.

Light rolled his eyes.

Ryuzaki wasn't going far.

"I have a carpet burn," he complained off-handedly.

"Ah," said Ryuzaki.

It sounded just like Ryuzaki, so the man who just made _love_ to him was Ryuzaki.

Light realized he was safe.

"Wine," Ryuzaki declared sitting back next to Light who was just gaining back his ability to move. There was sticky semen all over his lower belly and inner thighs, as well as some already leaked out onto the carpet where he laid.

It would stain.

Ryuzaki set two tall glasses down next to an ice basket that Light refused to think too much about, picked up his own crumpled shirt and helped Light clean up as much as a shirt could clean.

"What's the occasion?" Light said absently, lifting his leg for Ryuzaki. The man didn't mind.

"Us."

"Us?"

"Yes, us."

"Than it's a sad occasion."

Ryuzaki tossed the shirt aside for good, pulled down a blanket from the couch, laid next to Light and helped him get on it without straining his lower body too much. The bastard knew he'd hurt him.

"There," he said and pulled Light's shirt over his head, leaving him completely naked.

"What the hell was that for?" He wasn't embarrassed in the slightest or anything, but it was just kind of... it was Ryuzaki. Everything the man did was weird anyway.

"I want to see you, or is Raito-kun cold?" With that, Light resigned with a sigh and let the stupid man do whatever he wanted.

The stupid man kept his own pants very much on and pulled Light's necked body onto his own bare chest, shifted around bent one of his legs and finally reached to pour them some wine.

"Happy now?"

"Quite," Light was handed full tall glass.

"So to us?"

"To us."

"What exactly is 'us'?"

"I do not know, Raito-kun." The wine was fine, sweet and it reeked of four-hundred-bucks-a-pop even though Light was nowhere near being a wine expert.

"Hmm. I deserve to know what I'm toasting to, don't I?"

"Alright," Ryuzaki seemed to be in thought for a moment, and Light figured he was thinking of how to phrase it. At the end, Light realized the man had given up on what he wanted to say.

"To us, coming out alive tomorrow."

Light frowned and set the glass on the carpet too quickly. It tipped and spilled, leaving a large blood-red stain on the carpet.

One more for Ryuzaki's maid's to clean, he figured when Ryuzaki just took his fallen glass, refilled it and set it to stand and wait without saying a word.

"I don't like tomorrow."

"Raito-kun is scared?"

"...yeah, you?"

"I'm scared for Raito-kun."

Light snorted.

"That's exactly what she said you'd say."

"Ah."

"I don't like her plan."

"How's so?"

"It's based on you being L. Either way, I'm fucked."

To be fair, Ryuzaki's cool chest skin felt safe, and Light was content to have it under his cheek.

"Ah."

_This is a transport operation; all it involves is a transfer of Yagami Raito from point A, here, to point B, elsewhere._

_Since this building has been monitored severely by FBI, NPA and private surveillance (that does not belong to Ryuzaki Rue) for two weeks, L cannot strike here, however it is suspected he is after Yagami Raito and will strike at his earliest convenience. _

_My personal belief is that L is Ryuzaki Rue, and therefore he cannot strike here to kidnap Yagami Raito because of all this surveillance. _

_If Yagami Raito is not watched by three hundred and twelve cameras with over five hundred armed guards, L will strike. _

_The operation involves twelve identical transport vehicles, air support and an idle SWAT team per vehicle. Yagami Raito is to be placed into one of these vehicles and taken to point B, the location of which will not be disclosed. _

_As L and Yotsuba-L are assumed to be cooperating, Ryuzaki Rue, assumed to be L, shall be transported in the same vehicle as Yagami Raito. _

_Both parties have consented to doing this. _

_As L, Ryuzaki Rue will receive the aid of Yotsuba-L to kidnap Yagami Raito, thus proving his guilt and leading to his capture. _

_Point B is more inaccessible than the current location of Yagami Raito, and L will have to take this chance. _

"Naomi-san has winked at me. It was quite disturbing."

"What am I gonna do?"

"To begin with, I believe that is more to that plan than she mentioned in the briefing."

Light rolled his eyes.

"L may be waiting at 'point B'."

Ryuzaki played along.

"L may just want Raito-kun killed, so he will blow up all twelve cars."

"Thanks. He may just wait for point B and get me from there."

"L may not be cooperating with Y-L at all."

"Raito-kun just does not like Mello," Light smacked Ryuzaki's arm at that, "how will I tell Mello which car I am in?"

"Magic L powers. It's my turn, hmm... L may have died in two weeks already. Who knows?"

"I like that particular flaw in her plan, Raito-kun."

"I'm being blackmailed into doing this, basically."

"It is fair, is it not?"

"Considering I didn't _do_ anything, no, it's fucking unfair."

Ryuzaki's lashes brushed against Light's forehead as the man kissed him on the cheek before handing him a half-full wine glass with a hand that wasn't holding his own.

"To genii-"

"Oh, to _me_? Thank you," Light smirked as he interrupted him, and Ryuzaki frowned in good nature.

"-and to our superior abilities of poking holes in Misora Naomi's plans... the act of which ultimately leads to creating high chances for Raito-kun's imminent demise."

Ryuzaki was playful_. Ryuzaki, was playful._ Light had to muse over the idea a bit before accepting it.

This whole ridiculous thing.

...affection, was it?

Ryuzaki was in love.

"... I like the 'to genii' better."

Not just any love.

Ryuzaki was completely obsessed with him.

* * *

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

It was late night or early morning, and Light really didn't care to tell which exactly it was as he tried to focus his half-seeping mind on the pair of bulky and faceless officers who as good as hauled him out of his bed.

"W-" Light tired, but instead of giving him proper replies Light didn't even need to figure out what was going on; one of the officers thrust a very heavy set of clothing at him and when Light's arms almost dropped the load out of surprise at how much the thing actually weighted, an bulletproof vest was dumped on top of the folded pile and his arms gave.

Mild chaos and confusion were natural at four in the morning.

The fussing of one of the men made Light's head spin a little, though it went away when he was shoved into the bathroom and ordered to change.

His clothes were back right down to the undershirt he was supposed to wear under the vest.

Light had to overcome an urge to take a shower before getting dressed, but under the circumstances skipping the routine seemed... natural.

No, he was clean in _that_ sense, Ryuzaki had _lovingly_ taken care of that, but the residue of sweat lingered, and the scent of the man clung to his skin almost possessively.

It was almost a shame to cover it up, but even after he was done dressing, he found it comforting that the scent stayed with him.

The outfit was heavy, and it wasn't astonishingly back-breaking kind of heavy, but it was heavy enough for Light to exert generous effort to keep up with the officers as they made their way down to the heavily-guarded parking.

The twelve black vans were not impressive.

They were the regular windowless four-year models with a fresh, _identical_ coat of black paint: conspicuous enough to be inconspicuous. Or whatever Misora Naomi's mentality was.

The woman marched towards him and his 'escorts' proudly with her chest sticking out and nose high in the air like she owned the place.

Ryuzaki, who actually did own the place, noticed this and sent her some clever insult Light found typical of the man.

Ryuzaki looked more lively than he did in the past few weeks, and Light was sure he was one of those rare gay man that leeched energy from their partners and were sharp and alert while 'the partners' were knocked out cold or close to it... though Ryuzaki looked pathetic at the same time.

His figure was hunched more than usual and he shoved his hands into his pockets grudgingly to find the pants too tight and pull them out, and then repeat. The outfit he wore, identical to Light's, must have been just as heavy.

"Straighten up, you idiot. You're telling me you can beat the shit out of me, but a decent shirt is a little too _heavy_ for you?"

"...The socks are also scratchy and the shoes are suffocating my toes. They are steel-toe, had Raito-kun known this?"

Light found his leather sneakers rather nice.

The procession continued, and while people buzzed around him, Light finally realized the scale of this operation and just how much trouble he was in.

There were men – and probably women, all wearing two distinct and intimidating items of choice: a ski mask and an automatic rifle.

There were hundreds of them, all stuffed into Ryuzaki's rather spacious concrete underground parking, all busy and rushing and fussing and running around taking or giving orders.

Light had a nasty feeling he would be forced into one of those masks as well.

"Misora-san! Do we get those as well?" The cute look of childish greed was priceless on

Ryuzaki's face, considering the man wore some heavy armor and all. He was pointing at the rifles.

"Of course, we'll make sure to supply L with everything necessary to kill everyone in sight." Ryuzaki scowled and Naomi added, amused, "you get a plastic one."

"Hmm, does it look like _those_?"

"It looks exactly like those."

"May I have it now?"

Naomi produced one very real-looking automatic rifle and Ryuzaki played with it as he and Light were loaded into one of the black vans.

The motivational team-speech Misora Naomi gave their assigned SWAT team was almost cute, compared to her immediate orders.

"...there are no homing devices and your radios will be disabled. The only ones able to contact the base are the drivers; press the little red button and we will know you lost the targets. _Don't_ lose the targets. _That one_," Ryuzaki, "has been checked for homing devises and weapons. He is clean, you should be safe. There are cameras and bugs in the van, all that happens inside gets recorded. I see him, but I also see you. Do not hurt him unless he is being suspicious, I must remind you he volunteered to prove his innocence."

She left and the obviously bulletproof back doors of the van got slammed and bolted shut from the outside; the screech of metal against metal sounded like prison bars and Light gulped from his sideways seat between two armed men.

He preferred to focus on Ryuzaki who sat across from him, still playing with his toy gun.

"Hey, kid," one of the officers, the team leader, Light suspected, watched Ryuzaki though a black mask with beady small eyes, "you really L?"

Ryuzaki blinked and pointed his toy at the man, aimed and pulled the trigger, his aim completely off and the fake cartridge disassembled on his lap. "BANG!" he said owlishly.

Some men laughed.

Light could see the driver though the plastic window to the driver's cabin; he looked like a normal driver and the cabin had its own set of furry dice and dashboard Pokemon.

The blind shut, the man vanished, and the car moved.

An order from the leader later (Light was right), some men relaxed and some took off their masks, and Light was relived not to have to wear his.

"Now we wait."

---

"I would like to use the bathroom _now_," Ryuzaki insisted and a man next to Light groaned.

"Kid, seriously, shut it."

"_Now_, SWAT Team Leader-san." They've been driving for hours, and of course being forbidden from bringing electronics of any kind, Light lost track of time in the little isolated square room with two adjacent benches and many men.

The testosterone was boiling.

"I really need to use the bathroom!"

That was, if Ryuzaki had any to begin with.

"Kid, I'll assume you're being hostile if you don't shut the hell up!"

How could Ryuzaki be so... rude to these men? They had guns, huge automatic guns that could evaporate Ryuzaki if they all fired at him at once. How could he be demanding a bathroom break at a time like this..? How could he stand to piss off so many huge and dangerous men?

Something, something, "…bathroom!"

Something, "…no!"

Light tried to tune them out. His _bladder _needed to tune him out, or else.

He almost squeaked when the car came to an abrupt stop (thus jerked his unhappy bladder), but held it in. They were told to wear their masks.

The metal teeth chewed the door and it came open, and Ryuzaki darted for one of the plastic blue portable stalls, and grudgingly Light sprinted for one as well. They were clean at least.

Light realized they were driven in shifts. It was concrete and the dampness made it feel like it was underground... there were vans, black identical vans... all twelve of them!

"These aren't the same vans from the morning, are they?" Light was sure they weren't. Just how many black vans had Misora Naomi fail to mention? Nobody answered him, not even Ryuzaki who came out of the stall a minute later looking stunned and impressed.

Light watched as a van was loaded with ten definite SWAT members and two that seemed painfully out of place, making twelve altogether. Just what Light imagined he and Ryuzaki looked like.

Masked, all of them looked the same.

"Ryuzaki, say something."

"Hello."

Light felt relief wash over him when the voice that came from the awkward, slouched figure belonged to Ryuzaki.

"Stay close, I don't want to be separated from you."

Ryuzaki tugged on his sleeve and held on.

Another vehicle left.

Somebody swept both of them up and guided them back to their original van. No, no, it was a different one... Light didn't know.

The driver was different. So was the SWAT team. This one had a woman. They were handed bags of takeout and shoved into the van. It took off right away.

Light ate silently.

He didn't know how much time passed or where they were during the next _four_ changes of cars and SWATs and food.

He was painfully tired and wanted to sleep.

"Ryuzaki, I think there's no 'point B', Light muttered, having given up on privacy long ago.

"You believe Misora-san's plan was to drive around indefinitely?"

"Or maybe get L's attention by an overwhelming amount of suspicious black vans or something..."

"She believes I am L, Raito-kun," Ryuzaki reminded him gently.

"Oh yeah, right... she thinks I'm Kira, too..."

"Raito-kun is tired, go to sleep." Light eyed the huge man next to him.

"No, thanks."

Ryuzaki asked to switch seats with the man, and a short debate later the man agreed. Light fell asleep on Ryuzaki's shoulder, ignoring the nauseous motion of the moving van.

---

Wrong.

Wrong.

When he woke up again, he knew something was wrong. It overwhelmed his exhausted senses and snapped him into awareness better than cold water would have.

Ryuzaki noticed it too, so did the men in the van as the heavy car slowed down and stopped. They aimed at the door and Light barely managed to plug his ears in time to dull out a roar that erupted in the small cabin as the men shot empty space ahead of the open door. It was deafening, it was confusing, and Light found himself falling into the state of vague awareness. It was cloudy, slow, and it almost made the rattling of the rifle sound like wedding cans and the vivid 'clang' of the empty shells against the steel floor of the van like rain against the rooftop...

And in the middle of it all, he hadn't even considered that he had to get out and run, but Ryuzaki was there, and somehow the man managed to slip Light out of the van and drag him around the back, somewhere, and Light realized he'd have to press the little red button in the driver's cabin.

He wrestled his hand away from Ryuzaki and darted for it, reaching around the dead body of the driver to press it...

Ryuzaki pulled him away as the wedding cans rattled though the cabin...

"We have to... wait, don't we, what did she say? The support will be here in minutes..." Light heard his own voice come strangely calm, and Ryuzaki was saying something...

Light couldn't understand a word that came out of the silly man's mouth, and Ryuzaki shut up moments later because a van – a clearly marked police transportation van, in all its bulletproof glory screeched its tires right in front of them, and he dragged Ryuzaki in, shut the door and ignored the rattling that followed, the angry-looking red-headed zebra man with shot-up bike that couldn't follow them, or the distressed expression Ryuzaki adopted when he looked inside the driver's cabin.

It was too soon for back-up.

Police vans weren't supposed to be following them.

There was nobody else n the cabin. There must have been just them, and the driver.

L?

Light moved his head slowly to peak at who Ryuzaki so obviously didn't like looking at.

_What-? Why would he-?_

Soichiro Yagami, fresh from bedrest was driving their new van with an odd, eerie glimmer in his eyes. He hadn't said anything, he hadn't even looked back.

Suddenly, Light felt a different kind of 'wrong' altogether, one much worse than he felt moments ago.

He shuddered unpleasantly and clung to Ryuzaki's sleeve.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Right about now, since we're back into Light's mind completely, for this one, and the next two chapters I urge you to pay attention to things, specifically how he thinks and what he does and doesn't think about, that way, you... ah, what the hell am I talking about. When it comes, it'll bite you in the ass. :) Theories?

Light: ...are you delusional? What the heck are you talking about?

L: She is apologizing for update delay.

A/N: Heyy, psst! Reviewer! Yeah, you! **THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING! I LOVE YOU! VERY MUCH!** You know what else? See these things I'm fanning myself with? That's right. **These are THE NEXT TWO CHAPTERS, DONE AND READY**. You know what I'm_ NOT_ going to do with them if you don't review? That's right. I won't update them on time. Ho ho ho.

L: Resorting to threats, are you now? How lame.

A/N: YOU KNOW YOU WANT ITTT ON TIME. Press the magic button.

l

l

l

V


	16. Three Wishes, pt 1

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I dumped Ichigo and moved on to GrimmUlqui (still banging Bleach), and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH16**

**Three Wishes - pt. 1**

"D-dad?"

The chief said nothing as he abused the speedlimit across the dirtroad.

Light managed to catch a glimpse of the driver's side mirrors as the van, much like the black vans, had no back window. A few people on bikes were following them in the far distance, and they were quickly gaining on them despite the gap.

And then they were gone.

Their van turned into some kind of underground tunnel that forked into three and then into another three.

Just how far from home were they..?

"I believe we shook them off," Ryuzaki noted thoughtfully, for some reason not letting go of Light's shoulder, and Light noticed he was still clinging to Ryuzaki's sleeve.

He had a very bad feeling.

So did Ryuzaki.

"Thank you for your help, Yagami-san," the man said evenly, as if testing the water. The chief said nothing.

"Yeah, t-thanks dad?"

"You shut your mouth, young man," his father finally said, his voice shaking.

Light swallowed hard and cowered into Ryuzaki.

**

* * *

**

It just wasn't cool.

Important shit like this wasn't supposed to slip though the obvious personality gaps of a person as awesome as him.

Shit, maybe Mels was right, maybe he shouldn't've been totally slacking on the whole 'Matt get your shit together, it's going down tomorrow!', and maybe, just maybe, Matt considered blaming the stupid freankin' COD4 for the whole freakin' mess-up.

Maybe it were the Gods of COD, being pissed off at him for discrediting COD5 like he had on that gaming forum once?

...'cause a person as awesome as him wasn't supposed to be blamed by default. It was definitely the Xbox gods.

Mels didn't think so. Actually...

In all respect to Xbox gods, Matt was fooling himself.

It was definitely his fault.

He knew he should've been more careful, he knew he should've been paying more attention to Misora Naomi's equipment of choice. And now the whole thing was looking more and more screwed.

Hell. He kinda knew that at the back of his mind, that eerie _bad feeling_ he's been having about the whole thing should've been the first freakin' neon flashing sign flashing before his freakin' dumb ass... for him to ignore.

Damn.

But by the time he'd figured to check all _private _purchase logs instead of just the logs of shit taken out of the armory, L and his cute boyfriend were already loaded into one of those stupid-lookin' black vans and sent cruising around Japan.

So L went off-radar before Matt even knew there was something he should've really told the creepy guy beforehand.

Well, technically he was still on radar, with those damn ankle-band-tracker-shits that got Matt worried in the first place, but L couldn't be contacted.

And that was the problem.

Matt told L those things were _just fine_, nothing to worry about.

And that was the problem.

And the damn fucking things were a fucking major concern. They would've been fine if this was any other stupid mission because L, as, Matt rolled his eyes at this, mass-murderer slash creeper slash, you know, _fucking professional_, could be trusted to not fuck up and open his trap and tell his boyfriend shit he shouldn't be telling him 'till they were safely in Alaska or something.

Far away where the damn fuckin' ankle bands Matt told L were _just_ tracking devices shouldn't transmit every fucking word straight to freakin' FBI.

That's right.

Fucking sound transmitters.

How Matt missed the fucking bugs, he didn't know.

How Mello didn't turn him into a bloody splatter on the carpet when he'd told him, he didn't know either, but this was a result, Matt was on his bike, racing to support the ambush team in hopes that he could briefly warn L or something.

'Cause it was the best he could do at this point.

Mello, staying behind to try to screw the shit up some for the FBI couldn't be trusted with an ambush, let alone _let into a fucking building that was set to blow up_. Matt knew how Mels was.

So it was pretty much up to him.

Ambush team at his side was ready and the black van was approaching when Matt raced towards them on his Hurley, mud splattering all over the the shiny bodywork.

He dropped the bike and ran towards them and the team leader recognized him; but the van was so close to where he was supposed to shoot it, he just nearly made it. So Matt, being Matt, as good as man-handled the sniper and took his... her? Hot. Her rifle.

Respawn in 10 seconds.

Create a class M40A, no-attachment without stupid ACOG, no camo, secondary set to Desert Eagle.

Special – stun grenade...

Eh… he didn't need anything else. No time.

LT to aim, hold down LS to hold breath, pull the RT to fire.

Misora Naomi had expected an ambush. She sacrificed that driver 'cause of the vulnerable driver's cabin she put on that van.

Blame her. That done and over with, he slapped his bike helmet back on for at least some protection.

The van with a dead driver, still ridiculously far away, cruised to a lazy stop in up-hill drive.

It was going down.

Matt felt giddy.

Fun shit; he was doing fun shit instead of being stuffed into computer chair and made to hack useless crap. But then again, after this, he'll just chill the fuck out with some... COD4.

The irony.

If only that increasingly huge neon flashing _bad feeling_ sign didn't grow like it was on steroids or something.

Tsk. They lost a man… well, the sniper woman actually. Matt easily aimed for the neck and took out her shooter, secretly praising himself 'cause everyone else was aiming for legs 'cause of the bulletproof vests and helmets.

Matt wasn't wearing one; hell he bet his pants weren't even zipped cause Mello just yanked him off the couch when he'd found out about sound transmitters, threw pants and bike keys at his face and kicked him out. At least he didn't have to kill off a freakin' SWAT team in his underwear, now that'd be embarrassing.

_At least Mels didn't get too involved. _

He saw L; though L and Tsuki were wearing the exact same garb as their protection squad, L was easy to spot 'cause Matt knew what to look for, and little Tsuki caught in crossfire looked ready to puke rainbows.

They were moving the direction away from the fire and towards the driver's cabin.

Matt cursed.

L didn't see him.

Maybe if L at least saw Matt there, he'd know something was wrong.

Hastily, he threw off his bike helmet and followed them around the van; the fake-brunette was now reaching into the driver's cabin, so Matt thought of the smartest thing, like, ever.

Ambush team was told not to fucking shoot the cute boyfriend at risk of losing their left nut (according to L). So Matt aimed and shot very close to the cute boyfriend.

Maybe that'll get L's attention.

It didn't.

The creep just wrestled the kid out of the cabin and dragged him somewhere.

Matt cursed.

Chunks of metal were still flying around and helmet-less, Matt rolled and shoot somebody's leg. The man fell to his knee and Matt shot that too, only to find himself saved by one of his own.

And then a bullet nicked his ear.

Bad.

Too close to home… and L could be blabbering something very private at that very moment.

Fake back-up wasn't due for another five minutes, in theory Matt had time.

Shoot than aim, drop, run... Matt lost sight of them for a second, no more, and that was all it took.

A police van, not a fake SWAT van they're prepared, sped towards the two and the sight of L hastily shoving Tsuki into the van fueled Matt's _bad feeling. _

L should've waited, should've _not_ went in; Matt liked to think he knew the creep enough to consider him professional and not flip off plans for...

L was getting the boyfriend out of danger 'cause Matt shot at him.

Fuck.

He grabbed one of the get-away bikes and followed the van, hoping L would at least get a glimpse of Matt's face and fuckin'... realize shit was _up. _

For a split second, wide and scared brown eyes of the boyfriend locked with Matt's though the rearview window.

L still didn't see him.

Van disappeared into the tunnel and two turns later took a turn into a foot-deep flooded tunnel, the one the fake SWAT van wasn't supposed to take

Matt swore he'll never ever as much as touch COD4 again, and turned to the other tunnel.

Fuckin' police van just took a shortcut Matt couldn't take.

Racing on a bike that wasn't his with speed slapping in the face, he realized the attached radio was screaming code shit in Mello's distinct angry voice.

He picked it up and gave the code for 'fuck'.

The worst part was that this meant Mello was with the fake SWAT team, only ten minutes or so away from this whole fuckin' shitstorm.

**

* * *

**

_Misora Naomi's plan wasn't the most original one, but in theory it worked just as well as L's. _

_Just drive around in black vans. _

_If Ryuzaki Rue was L, he'd make his move. _

_If Ryuzaki Rue wasn't L, L would make his move. _

_If L had no idea what the hell was going on, surely he'd be alerted that something was definitely up with the overwhelming amounts of black vans aimlessly driving around. _

_Have Soichiro Yagami follow the van harboring his son, as soon as something turned fishy, pick up the boys and threaten murder-suicide in the name of fatherly pride. Or something like that. The NPA chief, without a doubt, had a bone or ten to pick with his son and his boyfriend. _

Light knew all this.

_After all, it was his idea... _

No.

_The woman_ had plans beyond that point, none of them were necessary though.

Ryuzaki didn't- Ryuzaki.

_Ryuzaki! _

Ryuzaki, damn it! Ryuzaki, Ryuzaki, Ryuzakiryuzakiryuzaki_ryuzaki_!

Light closed his eyes and composed himself before allowing any further thinking.

_Ryuzaki_ didn't take the bait.

He didn't confess to being L, or shoot Soichiro with a gun he had stashed up somewhere, or hid behind Light as the angry chief fired a fake round.

Instead, Ryuzaki focused on the deathly stare of the officer in fear and shock before his eyes drifted away from the man to stare into the drivers' window like Death itself just landed on the dashboard, and with a face contused in horror pointed and screamed, "WATCH OUT, DEER!"

Light watched as his father actually turned back, gun vulnerably open for a grab, and it took only a split moment: with an obscene capoeirra move Ryuzaki had knocked the chief hard enough for him to hit the forehead against the steering wheel and the car honked.

A shudder tore though his body as he realized Soichiro actually pulled the trigger and thankfully missed because the round that the gun released _was very much a real bullet._

Light _grabbed the gun and hid under his belt_, and before he could think how much his father must have hated him to actually use live bullets instead of rubber ones, Ryuzaki dragged him out of the abandoned van towards something that looked vaguely like a construction site.

---

_L's plan was cliché and surprisingly effective in theory. _

_Set up an ambush in close proximity to the Vanishing Point. _

_Replace back-up SWAT team that would come to their rescue with allies; have the real SWAT team hidden away at the vanishing point. _

_Either have the fake SWAT team pick them up, or drag Light back into the shot-up van and 'escape'. _

_Either of two options would lead to Vanishing Point. _

_From there on, it would be simple. _

_Blow up the Vanishing Point (that happened to be an abandoned warehouse) with real SWAT, some kidnapped mafia Mello had at his disposal, and of course two 5'10 male bodies. _

_Then, make a day for some underpaid autopsy technician from that morgue that really needed a cake stand. _

_L had killed them all,_ end of his and Light's little adventure.

Hello isolated house, somewhere far away, with a large bed and submissive lover.

Or whatever Light wanted to be, L didn't really care; as long as Light was lying next to him in bed, the brunette could be anything he damn well pleased.

And the plan sort of worked; L sort of expected sabotage, not by Light's father of all people, but he expected something, and it was convenient that the man had taken the same route L planned on taking...

L was almost tempted to consider it too convenient to be a coincidence...

But it was a coincidence.

Secretly, L hoped he hadn't knocked the man out too hard to cause any permanent damage.

He also hoped he'd hit him hard enough for the man to stay unconscious.

They were a little early.

_A lot_ early.

The original SWAT team was not-yet delivered (though L was sure the two unfortunate 5'10 males were tucked away somewhere between the wall skeletons, concrete blocks, dust and graffiti).

Mello and his people weren't anywhere close, and though it slightly bothered L to sit around in with live explosives practically under his feet, it was all he could really do.

Fortunately, L and Patience got along splendidly.

L took a note of Light, exhausted from running and dodging rubble and empty beer cans, leaning against a beam. His lips were parted and soft gasps and puffs exaggerated his trembling.

He looked... cute.

L curled his toes in delight, a jolt of happiness shooting down his spine and into his groin.

Light was... a trophy.

When the brunette had became one, L didn't know, but at the climax of their adventure Light reminded L of a trophy, something shiny and polished, but with greasy fingerprints all over it: something that took sweat, blood and hell to acquire.

--

The man next to him looked too calm for a man who was nearly shot to death by a father with vendetta.

But Light didn't mind.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Ryuzaki lowered himself against the large concrete column and allowed his body to slide along the surface to land on his butt and tug his knees under his chin.

He watched Ryuzaki watching him.

It was a long run along the floors and staircases and they've gotten as far as they would. The building wasn't a tall one, about five floors away from the ground, and with each floor of skeleton walls and abandoned stacks of immovable wood, the beer cans, garbage and blankets decreased: sick homeless or drunk punks didn't generally climb ten sets of stairs.

There was still junk here, on the last floor, but not much and even the graffiti looked more mature and less drunk up here.

Light could feel the cold breeze tour lazily between the walls from the non-existent side of the building.

He as he gained his breath, he watched his tracking ankle band flash red indicating that yes, closest SWAT was about to get them.

If the NPA chief didn't get them first.

"Why the hell did he have a live gun." Light droned it; it was a statement.

Ryuzaki didn't look surprised at all.

"What was he supposed to do, Raito-kun?"

"Well..." Ryuzaki obviously knew. So much for the plan, "_that_, more or less. He wasn't supposed to have a live gun."

"For believability, perhaps?"

"The fucking one we used in the rehearsal was just fine, trust me." Light felt a sour look twisting his features. The rehearsal of today was not a pleasant memory, not with his father's eerie eyes staring at him as he fake-shot him.

Something was wrong then, Light should've known.

Hah, he must've looked like crap because Ryuzaki was eyeing him with concern, and he probably didn't want to say what he needed to.

"You know your father," the man said cautiously, dropping the 'Raito-kun' for the time being, "would he follow us?"

Light swallowed and nodded bitterly.

"Alright. Don't be afraid, but this question is for our safety. What did you do with the gun?"

"I tossed it."

"Where?"

"Into that open sewer we passed so he couldn't find it."

"Hmm," was all Ryuzaki said, probably considering the chances of Soichiro Yagami having a spare gun and them having no gun at all.

"He has another gun," Light answered almost apologetically without Ryuzaki having to ask him.

"It's alright."

And so they sat there, whimsically staring into space wishing for one thing or another. Even the air seemed delicate, and one of the things Light wished for was that his father nor the SWAT team that were due in ten or so minutes didn't barge in to interrupt them.

It was nice.

Light rested his head on Ryuzaki's shoulder and eyed the bulletproof vest. At least they had those on.

"It's my fault," he declared in a low voice and Ryuzaki reached around his shoulders, stretched his legs out like a normal person, and pushed his head onto his lap, long, cold fingers messing up his hair. The place was windy and cold, and Light curled up slightly.

Ryuzaki assured him it wasn't.

"It is. I told them everything. I told them we were sleeping together. And she gets this... this stupid idea! I as good as told--dad – about _us_."

Ryuzaki ruffled his hair.

"Oh, well. I am as good as dead; surely he will be carrying an axe with him," he joked and Light laughed at the memory.

Things were... silly back then. Easier. Lighter.

The giant black cloud over their heads wasn't as black and giant back then. Nothing was that serious, either.

But now it was, it wasn't that long since they've met and Light managed to get himself into this whole... whole mess, and here they were, expecting sure death from enraged Soichiro Yagami, pissed off L, or Misora Naomi with a prison lock.

"I dragged you into this."

"I dragged myself into this, for Raito-kun. I do not regret it."

"Sure."

"I do not!"

Ryuzaki was tense, more than usually, and Light knew that the man was trying to put on a brave, assuring front. If L was to get here first, Ryuzaki would be the first to die.

"Well, since we're gonna die and all, **I wish...** hmm, **to die happy.**"

"You want to die in an exciting way," Ryuzaki corrected but Light was too caught up in his own final confession-type ramblings to care what nonsense the odd man was going on about this time.

"...so!" Light continued, his mood jerking up as he sat up, "I want- no, I don't want Last Sex, stop looking at me like that, - I want... deep shit. From you. Love confession. Something."

Ryuzaki looked at him, finally releasing his shoulders to let him sit up properly. He stared at Light, eyes wide, childish and black, amused, admiring. Light stared back expectedly.

"I am in love with Raito-kun," L finally confessed.

Light smiled, cupped the man's cheeks and pecked him on the lips enthusiastically. Ryuzaki blinked and let a small laugh leave the back of his throat.

"Raito-kun should have _really_ been taking his medication," he observed, amused. Light just brushed him off and stood up, almost dancing around the rubble on the floor.

"_So..._" Light said, with a smug, happy grin on his face as he thought of anything else he should get Ryuzaki to confess to. "I wish.._._"

**

* * *

**

A/N: Oh…

Light: Oh my...

L: Hmm...

A/N: That's right. This is kinda the moment of truth, actually. I'm unraveling lots of plot, ain't I? What the FUCK is going on? Anyone? I think I broke everyone's brain, it's all so confusing! ...but that's what a story looks like, 'cause it's... interesting. Or so I like to think... –shot-.

L: Thank you reviewers. **THANK YOU! **Miss King loves you so much that every time she gets one, she gets all wet. **REVIEW HER! **YOU NEED TO! PLEASE...! ...desu.

A/N: Yup, I love you so very much... I cry for you, my beautiful reviewers! Tell me how the story is going for you so far... magic button is hypnotizing... it is... click it...

l

l

l

V


	17. Three Wishes, pt 2

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I don't own Blood Brothers, I need to grow balls to get a tattoo done, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

_But don't you know what if you cross your fingers,  
And if you count from one to ten,  
You can get up from the ground again.  
It doesn't matter; the whole thing's just a game.  
The whole thing's just a game._

**CH17**

**Three Wishes - pt. 2**

L watched in amazement as Light blabbered about one unrelated thing or another, the silky tone of his voice not faltering one bit, despite the outright nonsense the boy was spitting.

Meds or no meds, this was Light. This was one of the last untouched pieces of Light's fading soul that remained untainted, uncorrupt...

Oh, once this was over, L vowed to nurse the boy back to mental health even if it cost him a leg or something.

Because L figured he owed that to Light, for nearly destroying him.

And this decaying, crumbling skeleton of an abandoned construction site was somehow intimate, like it was empty just for him and Light. So he figured he owed this to Light as well: just a few minutes without accusing him or judging him, or analyzing his every breath. It would be okay to let his guard down.

Just for a few minutes until a fake SWAT team came barging in. Just once.

For Light.

* * *

Matt came to the point of uttering a very impolite set of words with short intervals for breathing brakes, because his concern for his own behind and whatever L would do to it after he'd found out how Matt unintentionally screwed him over quickly evolved into a very strong, very ugly bad feeling about Mello.

And with each sharp turn of the tunnel, Matt's gut twisted and cringed and for the life of him, he had to get to that building before something happened to Mello.

Mello was above the freakin' ground, Mello would get there before Matt, Mello-

Matt squeezed the brake and his bike threw him off like bucking horse and screeched its metallic side against damp concrete only to slam into concrete road separators, lose a tire and reduce its front half to unrecognizable shreds of metal. ,

Matt's body rolled some feet and smacked into a tunnel wall, to his luck, he noted through a most likely cracked skull bleeding brains into his eyes, because his team sliced the water where moments ago his body met the concrete, and slammed into the two-ton roadblock, and their real brains leaked out. For real.

Some stopped, one ran up to Matt and helped him up, and through momentary numbness of all pain to all injuries Matt realized something that made him push the man out of his way, limp towards a free bike and ride back, out of the tunnel and take the ground way, to Mello.

Road fucking block.

Matt should've known.

Soichiro Yagami had absolutely no reason to go after L and Tsuki other than to get some sort of personal revenge.

Matt assumed he was trying to kill his son and his son's rapist.

Trouble was...

The police mental assessment of Soichiro Yagami showed absolutely no traces of anything that may in any way put him into a state of homicidal rage towards his son.

Soichiro Yagami loved his son.

And Misora Naomi wouldn't dream of convincing the man to do anything that might hurn his son.

And yet Soichiro Yagami kidnapped L and Tsuki.

Why?

And the roadblock.

FBI and NPA had a hand in this, which meant Soichiro Yagami was _just acting_.

If he wasn't going to kill L and his boyfriend for real, it meant he was put up to stage something...

And Misora Naomi couldn't possibly persuade him to do it...

The only person left who actually had the brains to set up this whole fucking show _and_ get Soichiro Yagami to fake-shoot his bellowed son...

Was...

There was no radio on this bike, and the phone in his pocket felt like a smashed pile of plastic and metal shit.

He couldn't even warn Mels, damn it.

Matt raced to Mello. He had to claw at his own consciousness to keep it present. His left eye was clouded by blood from a huge, pulsating gash on his temple. As numbness and shock faded, he realized he had at least one broken rib.

It didn't matter.

Mello, and L too, were in deep fuckin' shit.

Tsuki Yagami... no, what did L say? _Light_ Yagami. His kanji read one thing, but you were supposed to pronounce it as something else.

Cunning name.

Cunning little bastard.

**

* * *

**

_Ryuzaki_…

Ryuzaki was never the stunningly gorgeous type, but a change of clothes most certainly made Light stare.

The porcelain skin looked paler, softer and smoother against the black, baggy SWAT getup. Ryuzaki lost the gloves and the ski mask awhile back, and his creamy hands poked out of the oversized sleeves. Against _not _white three-quarter sleeve shirt, the man's pale, almost yellowish skin almost looked like Ryuzaki didn't spend his whole entire life tanning under a computer monitor.

Black almost made him look... kind of cool.

"Raito-kun is staring."

Light ignored him. Ryuzaki was going to die soon anyway. Light had a right to stare.

Despite the wandering hands, he leaned out of the reach to get a full look at the man in front of him.

Sure, the longish, black hair always seemed it be in need of grooming.

Ryuzaki's hair was kind of like… washing hair and… jumping from an airplane to dry it.

That's what it looked like.

Not a greasy, gelled up mess with flakes of dried hair products, but smooth, silky mess that looked greasy sometimes, but only after sex.

It wasn't like they've had _that_ much sex, anyway.

"Raito-kun is staring at me like there is a pigeon in my hair."

Actually, on the several occasions he and Ryuzaki went outside, Light half-expected some bird to come out of nowhere and land on Ryuzaki's head.

"Say, how many times have we had sex?"

"Three."

Light frowned.

"That was some quick math."

Just _three_? It seemed like they've known each other for ages, but it was actually just under five weeks. Five long, exhausting weeks since the whole thing started... and out of those five weeks, Ryuzaki and Light were _together_ for nine days.

Nine days.

Before Misora Naomi imprisoned them, Ryuzaki screwed him twice. Once after.

Three times.

"That's one less than L."

It was worth to say only to study the man's exotic face.

His large eyes wrinkled at the corners, under some kind of distress of strain, and if it wasn't for messy, heavy bangs, Light would've seen very faint eyebrows draw together in a frown.

"Just to let you know that L's winning the 'Screw Raito Very Hard' contest."

The narrow nose wrinkled and thin lips pressed together.

Light considered the expression for a moment…

Bursts of uncontrollable, uneven laughter sliced though the tense air of the fifth floor of the abandoned, unfinished, graffiti-decorated and bottle-littered building.

"Puff… puff out your cheeks…!"

Ryuzaki kind of looked like a blowfish.

"This is very amusing," the fish in question said, clearly offended.

"Ha ha ha!"

Light felt heavy shudders tear though his body as he laughed.

Fear. He was laughing out of fear; despite the heaviness and warmth of the black shirt he was wearing, he was shivering and his forearms felt cold. Adrenaline-cold. Fear-cold.

Ryuzaki's cute expression changed again, sort of; to an untrained eye Ryuzaki's face would look as stoic and confused as it always did, but Light saw concern in it.

"I'm crying, aren't I."

"Yes, Raito-kun."

Light shook his head, feeling warm tears fly from his face, making even his face cold.

A drop landed on Ryuzaki's face.

"Sorry," Light muttered with a half-smile, reaching out for it, "that's mine." His fingers pressed against the smooth skin, feeling the wetness of the tear to brush it away, but instead he just ended up smearing the moisture down Ryuzaki's cheek to the man's chin, tracing the marble like it was fragile.

Before he knew it, Light crawled over to Ryuzaki's lap and buried his head into the back, silky airplane-dried hair.

It smelled like soap.

"I want to go home," Light muttered, pulling a strand of black hair and twisting it around his fingers.

Ryuzaki's grip on his waist tightened and instead of trailing down and squeezing his ass, a long arm draped itself around Light's shoulder, embracing his body and pressing into it like Light was important.

Hah.

Important.

It was cute, almost, and disturbing on so many degrees at the same time; Ryuzaki, pretty much a block of ice, holding Light to his chest without any ulterior motives, not possessively or even sexually, just holding him for the sake of holding him, for the sake of making the whole situation where either of them could get a bullet through their hearts at any given moment a little less frightening for Light.

Ryuzaki was safe. He was like home.

"Tell me a secret," Light mused once the soft sobs stopped rocking his body, "anything. Tell me something you've never told anyone before."

The chest he was resting against hummed softly.

"I don't' have any secrets."

"Liar! Everyone has secrets."

"No, Raito-kun. Not me."

_Liar_.

Light frowned, and whatever small shift in his body that frown caused must have registered, because Ryuzaki chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, humming again.

"I can tell Raito-kun a story."

Light agreed to this by saying nothing, and somehow Ryuzaki registered that too. Just how well did the man get to know him?

Nevertheless, Light relaxed further and listened to the quiet drone of Ryuzaki's voice.

"A long time ago, a man got consumed by his own misery and died-"

Light gargled, very unintentionally, and it earned him a smack on the back.

"Raito-kun wanted a story, and he will stay quiet while I tell him the story."

"Alright, alright."

"… A long time ago, a man got consumed by his own misery and died. He was quite a talented man, and he knew he was talented and he had a lot of pride; he deemed nothing in the living world worthy of his talents. Eventually, he got bored, and it was boredom and sadness that killed him."

"He died and went to Heaven, because despite being so selfish, he did not deserve to go to Hell. In Heaven, he played his music. It was music that was his greatest talent, and so he played his violin in front of angels, and angels praised him and wanted him to teach them, but it was still the same as when he was alive: even angels seemed unworthy of hearing his talents. No, to these angels, the soul of the man was like a God."

"Meanwhile, the Devil heard about this man's soul in Heaven, and decided he could use this selfish soul to get to God. Being unable to go to Heaven himself, or in any way contact the violinist, he decided to argue with God Himself if the soul really belonged in Heaven. God listened to the Devil, heard of the corrupt soul the man had, and decided to be the judge of where the soul belonged to."

"To the soul of the man, it was finally the moment of truth. No human or angel could even compare when your audience was God Himself. The soul of the man wrote a brilliant Sonata to be played in front of God, it was challenging, it was beautiful, it made the soul of the man feel trill for the first time, and once God listened to it, He was outraged. The soul of the man was not corrupt at all, and yet it was clear the man wrote this Sonata not to please or impress God, but to show God that the soul of the man could outdo God. So as punishment, the man's soul was sent back to Earth a living person, to have the sins he will or will not commit be the determining factor where the man's soul would go, instead of the man's selfish personality."

"The Sonata itself was given a name, after which it became banned from Heaven despite its Heavenly beauty."

"Without his memory of being in Heaven, the boy grew up to be a brilliant violinist once again. This time around, he heard other violin masters and was determined to best them. His skill improved and improved, until once again, as a man, he became too full of himself."

"Meanwhile, the Devil was displeased with God's verdict. The Sonata was banned from Heaven, but it was played in Hell for Devil's personal pleasure. Devil, just like the man, decided it was not enough; he wanted the man himself to play the Sonata for the Devil. So he decided to trick the man."

"The Devil visited the man in his sleep, asking the man to teach him. Of course, having no memory of even being in Heaven, the man jumped at the opportunity of having someone as high-ranking as Devil himself be his student. The man taught the Devil many Sonatas, playing them as he did, but none of them was the Sonata forbidden by Heaven. The man simply did not remember it."

"Finally, once the man finished his lessons, he asked the Devil play something for him. Devil, not getting what he wanted, both out of revenge and mocking irony, decided to play the forbidden Sonata to the man who unknowingly wrote it."

"Needless to say, the man was stunned and awoke at once. He wrote down what he heard, but it was not good enough; compared to what the Devil played for him, it was not even close. The man tried to recreate what he heard, but never quite managed to."

"The Devil sat in Hell, listening to the inferior Sonata, angry as ever."

"The man spent his life chasing the Sonata, but never managed to get it quite right; after all he was trying to outdo the Devil, when the person he should have been trying to outdo was himself."

Light sighed, whimsically.

"Tartini is 'the man'. The sonata is Devil's Trill."

"Yes."

Light felt somehow calmer.

"Thank you for that."

"You are welcome, Raito-kun."

"What happened to the man?"

"Only masters can manage to play Devil's Trill, Raito-kun. I suppose it is one of Devil's tricks to get many violinist masters into Hell so they can play Devil's Trill for him. Anyone who plays it, goes to hell. Tartini went to hell."

"And you know this as per the intelligence Devil provided you with."

"Ah, of course."

It wasn't terribly hard to spot what Ryuzaki was getting at.

**Light was the Man.**

**L was the Devil. **

To a degree, Light saw the whole world at his feet, and once he met L, he tried to outdo him at his own craft. Light tired to kill a murderer.

And it was true. Instead of trying to beat L, Light should have been trying to beat _himself_; it would have made things so much easier from the start…

And still, Light had to ask, "Why'd you pick this one to tell me?"

"It is my favorite one."

The answer was anything but whatever Light was expecting, and not just that, it was an honest answer.

"Devil's Trill."

"Devil's Trill."

"It's kind of sad."

"It is."

"Say, can you _play_ Devil's Trill?"

"Of course," came a smug reply and Light frowned. By the look on his face, Ryuzaki must have seen his music grades. Light played piano as long as it was required, perfectly or course, but he dropped it as soon as middle school did not have music as a mandatory anymore. If luck truly avoided Light (like it seemed), his father probably told Ryuzaki a cute story about how Light got rid of his piano at home.

Bastard.

"You're going to hell," he bit.

"Of course."

Smug bastard.

It didn't change the fact that Light _did_ just think of his father, armed and homicidal, coming after them, and the feeling of dread Ryuzaki managed to dissolve with his story returned.

And with his father, came the memory of L, and the 3:4 score L held over Ryuzaki.

"You know what? I say fuck it. We won't L win."

"We won't?"

"No," and with that Light pressed his lips against the chapped ones, stealing a long, hard kiss. L kissed him back with concerned enthusiasm...

_Ryuzaki_ kissed him back with concerned enthusiasm...

Yes.

It wasn't passionate. Well, it was passionate, but instead of the passion, Light imagined he tasted like desperation. Like fear. Like someone who was scared and angry, like an animal in a cage without any options but to rip off someone's hand and eat it...

"Raito-kun, not a good idea."

Light blinked. He was already straddling Ryuzaki, one of his hands clutching at the black hair, another an inch away from the half-undone side zipper on Ryuzaki's bulletproof vest. An inch away because Ryuzaki firmly held his wrist away to prevent him from undoing it further.

"I say, good idea. Take it off."

"Raito-kun, we are-"

"About to be ambushed, yeah I know. I want sex."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"It's a bulletproof vest, Raito-kun. It stops bullets. _Ambush_, remember?"

"So? If my dad storms in here first, he'll kill us both, no matter what position we are in. If L comes, he'll... well, rip your dead body out of me. SWAT... I don't know, are SWAT people allowed to have cellphones? I figure they'll take pictures or something..."

While ranting, Light made a few very good attempts at L's vest, unzipping the thing three quarters of the way down. It was a small victory, so what if he had Ryuzaki trapped under himself unfairly.

Finally, the man pushed him away and Light's behind connected with the concrete unpleasantly.

Great. Injuries to his ass already, even before he got fucked.

Just great.

"Come on, Ryuzaki."

"Raito-kun, we have no more than five minutes."

Light eyed him then.

"You can do it!" he encouraged.

Ryuzaki scoffed, but Light knew himself to be a very convincing bastard.

Finally, Ryuzaki said, "Alright, fine. Take your pants off, Raito-kun-"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Unacceptable. I don't want a quick fuck. I want that love you were talking about. I want us sweaty, naked and pressed against each other. I want vanilla."

"Vanilla sex in _five_ minutes, Raito-kun?" Light had absolutely no erection. Nor did Ryuzaki.

"Yes."

Nothing.

"I want that _love_ you were talking about, Ryuzaki."

A sigh, a chaste kiss, unzipping of the vest, heavy drop, unzipping of the SWAT shirt.

"Come here."

Light dropped his own getup and nearly flew back to the man's lap and kissed him, satisfied at the skin contact between their chests. Ryuzaki had the smoothest skin, gently toned chest and stomach ; his chest was smooth and his hair was mostly concentrated in his lower abdomen and his sex, and the soap he used was the most god-awful soap he'd ever smelled... thankfully Ryuzaki's natural scent made it alright...

"Ah..." he kissed the man hard, desperate to get whatever he could in the short time they had; cool fingertips ghosted over his nipple and hands tangled in hair and something heavy fell a few feet away from them and they jumped apart like they stung each other.

A beer can rattled as it rolled away from Light's foot.

They sighed in relief.

Ah.

Who was he kidding?

They couldn't do it.

He was crying again.

Ryuzaki tried to touch his face again, but Light smacked his hand away. The man sighed and redressed, and he was reaching for the vest when Light jumped up and stomped his foot, leaving startling him.

"God damn it!"

Cans and bottles flew away, clearing out of the path of Light's foot.

"Damn it all!"

"Rait-"

"No, I don't want to shut up! Fuck it all to hell, what the fuck-"

"Raito-"

"What the fuck did I do to deserve this? Huh? You tell me, what did I do?"

"You did nothi-"

"No, I fucking _apparently_ did something, otherwise this shit wouldn't've happened to me!"

"Raito-kun, it isn't your fault." Ryuzaki looked at his feet, like those steel-toe boots he had a grudge against for the past fourty-something hours were suddenly the answer to all their dilemmas, like the boots were more important to look at than Light's face.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The mop of silky black hair snapped at the order, and hell if Ryuzaki could pull off looking like a guilty cat.

"God damn it, it's all about you, isn't it? I will be there for Raito-kun, I'll go along with this ridiculous plan that'll get me killed for Raito-kun, I love Raito-kun… have you fucking considered how I feel?-"

_Fuck anti-depressants. Fuck pills. _

"-No, no you haven't."

A grimace spoiled the face of the man in front of Light, but it wasn't anger that pressed his eyes into narrow slits, no, it was the alarming rate at which Light was backing up towards the unfinished, windowless, wall-less side of the building.

The part of the building where there was no wall between the innards and the open air of the outside. No wall to block any fall.

Ryuzaki made a grab for him, but Light anticipated the grab, and he nearly danced away from Ryuzaki's grabby fingers to the edge where the floor ended.

_High._

The fall would be five stories high.

And there was sharp rubble at the end of it.

_Death._

"You know the only difference between you and L that made me drop my whole entire premise just like that, overnight?"

"Raito-kun, please get back here."

"Nah, I don't think I will."

"Raito-kun-"

"Don't you know? You have a face, and a name to go with it, you don't hide behind a stupid letter, you do whatever the fuck you want to whomever you want. And then you _dare_ to _look_ at me the morning after, and I see your _face_, and I _hate_ you in the morning…"

"…"

" And L is gone, just like that, like it never happened. He doesn't remind me he owns me with his stupid face. You do. You stalk me and follow me and I see your face every _day_. Do you know how much your 'love' hurts?"

"Raito-kun, get back here."

"In that respect, you know what? **I wish you were L.**"

"Raito-kun, take my hand now."

"...Then you wouldn't want me to return your stupid affection, then you'd just know I just need use you to survive, and you'd be _just fine _with that. Can't you be fine with that?"

Ryuzaki hadn't moved much, and though Light was sure he heard and considered every piece of the outburst, the only thing that mattered to the man right now was getting Light away from the very dangerous edge of the building.

_Like hell._

"I'm jumping, fuck you!"

"Raito-kun, step away from there!"

"And you know fucking what else? That time I first met L? I was drunk, but at that stupid miniature Koi pond, you know what?"

He saw it then, the shift. The calculating gaze, a full one, not snippets and bits and pieces Light managed to see here and there, but a full, serious calculating gaze, one that _counted_ his _soul _met his eyes and Light took an unconscious step back, so close to the edge the wind messed with his oversized SWAT pants.

_Enough is enough…_

"I tried to kill myself," Light bit, considering if the air pressure would be enough to crush his lungs mid-air.

"I know."

"What?"

"You told me I saved you from a suicide."

"_What?_"

"Come here, _Light_."

The soles of Light's steel-toed boots froze to the ground.

His lips shuddered and with wide eyes, he turned around to look at the _thing_ behind him.

"W-what di-did you j-just say?" a whisper left his lips, though he never ordered such words to be spoken.

"_Light_, come on, take my hand."

A hand, an outstretched hand, for him, for Light, welcoming him to take it, take it and go away to safety, but the man whom that hand belonged to...

The man... whom that hand... belonged… to...

"_No_…" He shook his head, but rather than declining to take the hand, Light denied the reality altogether. "Can't be... you..."

"_Light_-"

"R-ryu…Ryuzaki... don't call me that, please, tell me you just… you... 'Raito-kun', you call me 'Raito-kun'..."

"Take my hand!"

"NO! You call me 'Raito-kun', goddamn you! Call me 'Raito-kun', Ryuzaki! _YOU ARE RYUZAKI, DAMN IT!!! He_ calls me 'Light', YOU FUCKING CALL ME FUCKIN' 'RAITO-KUN' OR-"

A feeling boiled deep inside Light's gut.

"No,-"

_A feeling..._

"-I call you-"

_Hysteria._

"-Light."

"You... you aren't Ryuzaki..."

"I-" the hand in front of him, just feet in front of him, the safe hand suddenly looked poisonous and filthy…

"I trusted you…" Could he even hear him? Light's numb lips barely moved and almost no sound made it out of his mouth, and yet somehow _the man_ in front of him looked almost... hurt...

"Light..."

_Not good enough. _

"No, you aren't..."

"I am."

_He has to say it. _

"No!"

"I am, Light just take my hand!"

"Why the fuck should I?" Light stepped back and his heels now hung off the edge of the concrete. The ground was a long way down, maybe it would be easier just to take a step back and…

"I will make you safe!"

"I don't believe you, and you aren't him!"

"I am him, just take my hand!"

_Just._

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, YOU AREN'T HIM!"

_Say._

"For God's sake Light-"

_It._

"**I am L!** ...Just please step away from there and take my hand!"

_L. _

_Ah._

Countless pairs of invisible hands clapped together in applause that filled the empty room; Light could almost hear them, noisy, encouraging, powerful, and everywhere, announcing his victory. Congratulating Light with a brilliant performance.

Light felt safe.

Serene.

Calm, like nothing in the world will ever bother him again.

"Your love confessions mean nothing but your ability to say words, _L."_

"I love you, Light."

"I know."

Out of the corner of his eye, Light saw the ground, five stories beneath his feet, saw the rubble of broken timber and metal scraps that would puncture a hole though him if the five stories of flight didn't do the job.

He saw L reaching out for him, to take his hand and pull him away from danger…

Ryuzaki...

Ryuzaki was L.

Light knew this.

He knew it.

_Not_ deep inside.

Not because he _suspected_ it.

No.

He knew it.

Through the _whole_ thing.

He knew L was L the day they drank wine naked on the floor, the moment they got into the black vans, during the switches, during the ambush, in his father's car, in the building… Light knew L was L.

Because he finally figured it out.

12. 12.

R. R.

Ryuzaki Rue is L.

The wind gusted between his legs, slightly swaying him backwards, but he stood his ground, just staring into L's begging eyes.

'_Don't jump.'_

'_I'll take care of everything.' _

'_Just let me take you away. '_

L was telling the truth.

It was Light who lied that day. He lied about many things.

How he didn't know about his father going berserk, or being ready to die, or how he wanted Ryuzaki to be L.

He lied about another thing.

He didn't want sex. He just wanted L's bulletproof vest off.

And L didn't see it coming, his black, round eyes Light found exotic went wide, almost comically like that first time Light brushed his soft, tangled hair and they had sex for hours to the sound of the rain... or that time Light screamed into a pillow in frustration and L thought he was trying to suffocate himself... or the last time he'd given Ryuzaki an open invitation to fuck him into a ground, and instead L made love to him...

Ryuzaki loved him, _L_ loved him…

Light knew that this for the first time in his miserable, worthless and hollow existence, a man known as L finally found someone he could _love,_ possibly even give up everything precious to him just for Light to return his love.._._

That's why he didn't see it coming when he realized Light lied about the gun.

About the gun he said he threw into a sewer.

Light pulled out that gun.

He didn't need to aim; L was very close.

So he stretched out his arm to where L held out his hand for Light to hold onto.

And shot L.

In the chest.

Point-blank.

* * *

A/N: _Well?_ Who saw this coming? Who didn't? Tell me what you guys think; it's actually _crucial_ you review at this point (even if it's just _'Nooooooooo!!!'_) **THANK YOUS GO TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED. I LOVE YOU!**

L: Holy _fuck_…

Light: …

A/N: You guys really need to **press that damn magic review button.** Do it please. King needs you to do it... tell me if you're still alive. Don't kill yourselves just yet... by the way, no, this isn't the final chapter. But shit finally makes sense, no?

L: Holy _fuck_...

Light: …hurts, doesn't it?

**Magic Button**

l

l

l

V


	18. Three Wishes, pt 3

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I don't have any furniture left, __I do not own Hallelujah, __and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH18**

**Three Wishes - pt. 3 (****Hallelujah****)**

The screeching tires hadn't yet come to a grinding halt, and Mello was already out and running towards the damn wreckage L selected as the safest pl-

_Fuck that. _

Where the hell were they?

Up there.

In there.

Somewhere.

As he ran, Mello considered how L would act and where exactly he would hide-

_Fuck that too. _

There wasn't time for that. L most likely grabbed the little shit and dragged him upstairs somewhere to the fifth floor. It was his best bet, anyway.

Without praising himself for exceptional baseball skills as cherry topping to his already impressive sports abilities, Mello threw a beer can into the open wall of the fifth floor and ran though the missing door, up the staircase, up, up, up.

A jamming device he stuffed into that can _should _scramble whatever the hell L _shouldn't _be telling that filthy, betraying sonnofa bitch boyfriend of his. Hopefully, they were on the fifth floor. Hopefully, Mello made it in time. Hopefully, he had at least a minute 'till the real SWAT team realized they were being screwed with.

He flew though sets of stairs, jumping three at a time.

Fourth floor.

Almost there...

L meant the world to Mello, and despite the bastardocity practically spilling from the man's ears, it was L who pulled Mello half-dead out of numerous burning wreckages. It was L who came when shit hit the fan and when even Matt was using himself to shield Mello from raining bullets – it was L who came.

And it was always L who kicked the shit out of him for having one of his genius ideas that usually led to him to being royally fucked by life.

It was L who took him in from the streets and, and... and all that shitty, overrated soap drama. _Woah Mels, sentimental much?_

Mello had a crush on L, there. Much better. Mello wouldn't be caught dead being grateful to anybody.

Mello had a crush on L, that's why he was trying so hard to return the favor.

Maybe it would be _he_ who'll be kicking the shit out of L for having an incredibly stupid idea this time around.

_Ha, ha, fucking ha-_

He was four steps away from clearing the staircase to the fifth floor, four steps: that was one three-step leap and one small one, and it was then when he heard a gunshot.

_Gun... shot. _

_Who the fuck had a gun?_

Shit still had to be okay. It was L in there for fuck's sake.

But no, shit wasn't okay.

_Fuck thinking about it. Do something. _

He got there just in time to see L's body hit the ground, and at the edge of the floor stood no one but the famous Light Yagami, holding a gun and _smiling_.

The little shit was fucking _grinning_ like a fucking cat.

Their eyes met for a brief second, and the smile dropped from the kid's eyes before it had a chance to leave his lips. He shot L, sure, but L was _right fucking there,_ in front of his stupid _face_.

Mello read Light Yagami's shooting range reports.

The kid was the worst shot in the whole fucking world. It was pure terror in his eyes as he watched helplessly Mello running towards him. Armed, Light could only do so much. Both of them knew there wasn't a fucking chance Light could fire and actually shoot something more than three feet away from himself.

The little shit still tried in panic. Four rounds penetrated at least three layers of dry-wall some five feet away from Mello's general direction, and Yagami watched each hole in horror.

Mello didn't need to aim, it came naturally, but before he could pull the trigger...

The kid jumped.

Fuck.

_Nevermind, fuck that. _

_L. _

L lay on the ground, unmoving, bleeding, _dying..._

Dead…?

Was L dead?

Was the greatest, most disgusting and dangerous serial killer to touch the holy ground finally _dead_?

Red blood stained the dirty ground and sipped though cracks in the lightly-colored concrete, webbing into little streams and sipping into pieces of wood... it came from his chest where his black shirt was torn, it came from his back where the bullet left his body, it came from his head were the black mop of hair hit the concrete and the skull got cracked open...

L's blood was everywhere, creating a red halo around his body, and Mello felt his boot stick to it slightly as he unwillingly ran past L to look down and make sure Yagami was dead...

The little bastard was gone, and in the place where he should've landed looked undisturbed. Rushed footsteps came from the floor below.

Gone.

_Fuck it all. _

Mello prayed he had that minute.

He turned to L.

L wasn't moving.

L wasn't breathing.

_Fuck that. _

Not good.

That shot definitely deflated a lung.

And most likely pierced his jugular.

_This is L. _

_This is L. _

Shit still had to be okay.

L wouldn't die this easy. This was L for fuck's sake.

L's heart was beating, very weakly, but a tiny pulse was still there.

But breathing wasn't.

L wasn't breathing.

If anything, L was about to drown in his own blood.

It was weird, sure it was, and L had done it to him a few times (though Mello was most definitely unconscious and only found out about it from jealousy-ridden Matt), but L needed CPR, and, well.

His open, gloved palm was pressed into the open would, and his other hand was slightly higher compressing the chest, and L's lips tasted like blood, and after a minute or so, L still gave no signs of ever breathing again.

That, and he was losing blood at an alarming rate.

Mello's gray jeans were soaked dark where blood seeped between the threads, and his long black sleeves were wet up to elbows.

"Please."

The chest under him accepted every breath he forced into it like it was a lifeless balloon.

_Please. One time I get to save you. Don't die on me now. _

Was that Matt? Matt had blood coming from his head too.

What was up with all the bleeding people?

"Mello, come on."

"No, I can't."

He shouldn't leave L's mouth. He should be doing CPR.

Matt tried to pry him off, but Mello just pushed him away.

No, no, no.

"Mello, come on. He's dead."

No.

His heart was still beating.

He tried again, with no avail.

"We have no time, damn it, let's go...!"

"It's L, Matt, L! We can't leave him, WE CAN'T LEAVE HIM, COME ON L…"

When did Mello start crying?

This would be the time where Near would preach about his emotions getting in the way, or something, but fuck it all, L wasn't going to die.

"He's dead, Mello."

"His heart is beating."

"Mel-"

"Fucking check it yourself, damn you!"

But Matt didn't need to check.

As Mello pushed his free hand hard against the bleeding chest wildly, a tiny, barely audible cough came from inside of L's throat. Blood started to spray from his gaping mouth, and surely enough, desperate gasps came moments later.

Alive.

L was half-dead, but his heart was beating, just barely, he was breathing, just barely, and he had just barely enough blood left in him.

"We need to get him out of here."

Together, they did.

As far as shit was concerned, ankle transmitters malfunctioned and no confession was ever made. Yagami freaked out and shot an innocent man.

This place, rigged with explosives and 5"10 males was clearly where L was planning to make a switch...

Problem was, Ryuzaki wasn't L.

Mello was L.

Yes, this could _just_ work.

All they had to do was see Mello there... yes. They just reached the van, and a fake SWAT team was already helping them.

"Take him, I forgot something inside."

Before Matt could free his hand from clamping L's wound shut to take off after him, Mello darted back towards the damn building.

All Matt heard moments later were gunshots.

And then Matt realized it was Mello who took charge of the detonators.

Gunshots.

More gunshots.

Explosion.

_**

* * *

**_

Light wasn't exactly sure why the red-headed man who looked barely Light's age decided to strike only four days later.

Perhaps it was because he wanted to spend the time with whomever it was that got caught in that explosion, or maybe he simply wanted revenge, and as far as revenge went, leaving Light to spend four days at the foot of his father's bed waiting and praying the old man would wake up was very effective.

Because what the redhead did to him after he got his hands on Light could only be fueled by something as strong as revenge; Light could feel the boy's anger and frustration and even desperation in every punch he took from him.

It hurt, it hurt his body, but nothing beyond that, his soul was already dead.

And all Light could do was take in the soul of the boy, just a kid at that, that very obviously hemorrhaged from pain and worry about someone Light didn't know about.

He didn't know the boy's name.

He didn't know where he was.

He didn't really know what happened to the side of the war that wasn't NPA or FBI, and he didn't really ask questions. Like what happened to L, or Mello, or... it didn't matter, anyway.

Both sides suffered casualties.

Aizawa, who unfortunately happened to accompany the SWAT team that stormed the unfinished building, died. That man hat a wife and two little girls. Dead. Just like that.

Rey Penber, Misora Naomi's fiancé also got caught in the explosion and was burned alive.

FBI, who for some reason did not receive the transmission of L's confession got kicked out of Japan for risking and ultimately being the cause of the deaths of four Japanese SWAT team members, one officer, and eighteen people supporting various degrees of injuries.

A few unidentified bodies were found in the wreckage, burnt to crisp. One of them turned out to be Ryuzaki Rue.

Mello, who in the eyes of NPA became the real L got away in unknown condition. All records of him ever being associated with the L investigation team mysteriously disappeared from all available databases.

Mello was known; he was generally a contracted assassin for hire. His list of crimes was now decorated with an illicit number of killings executed by L.

Light refused protective custody and stayed with his father.

Misora Naomi disappeared.

But this wasn't the end of it.

Far from it.

Not that it mattered, but Light's side hurt. It didn't matter which side he lay on; he had cracked ribs on both sides, and the cold concrete wouldn't get any softer no matter how he turned. Moving at this rate would only cause the bruises on his face to reopen, and if he had to move, he'd have to place unwanted pressure on his snapped wrist.

It didn't matter if he tried to ease his pain, either. The redhead would just come and beat the shit out of him again... speak of the devil.

"Get up," came a harsh bark in English, followed by slamming of the metallic door and heavy footsteps of steel-toe black leather boots Light got acquainted with very well.

And he tried to, God help him if he didn't, but just when he managed to pull himself to his knees, his elbows gave and he collapsed back down. His jaw connected with the concrete and he bit his tongue.

Nothing new.

"Miserable shit."

Light saw them then, from his horizontal position on the floor a pair of very heavy black leather boots towered over him. He closed his eyes before he felt one make impact. The force sent him rolling off.

Left foot. Redhead always kicked with his left foot.

Light's beaten, bruised body rolled a few feet and stopped limply on his stomach. He coughed, but didn't make effort to move beyond that. He just didn't have the strength.

"Y'know what really pisses me off?" the redhead started another session of his rumbling, and Light didn't respond. Hell, he hadn't even said a word to the boy yet, had he? Since... how long was he here, anyway? Two days? Three? Beatings were nearly hourly, anyway.

Whatever was left from his collar chocked his throat as his broken body was lifted and he was thrown towards the single metallic chair of the room. Of course he didn't land perfectly, and the fixed chair only gave his shoulder a sizable bruise before Light simply didn't pull himself up and let his body slide to the foot of it.

"Come on, get up," again he was yanked up, but this time he sat, and waited with his eyes closed, "so y'know what pisses me off?"

A punch. A painful, jaw-cracking, tongue-biting, nose-bleeding punch to his face.

"You, you fuckin' shit, don't even know what ya in for."

Light didn't say anything, not that an opportunity to speak was given to him when the second punch followed.

"And don't give me any shit how you can't speak English. Sure you can."

One more.

"Say something!"

Light spat blood to the side, to a degree afraid of what would happen if he tired spitting into the redhead's face.

"So you know, I'm gonna tell ya if you ain't gonna ask. Mello. You're here for Mello."

Ah. So it was Mello he wronged.

Figures.

"Y'know what else?"

_That it hurt?_

"You fucking know I don't consider it your fault in the slightest, right? Nothing personal."

"So you get off at finding scapegoats?" It was the first time in days he'd heard his own voice. It came in waves of harsh whispers; he tasted blood coming from his throat and it was the only thing to ease the pain of speaking though sandpaper. He hadn't had water in days, either.

He didn't receive a blow to the face, instead a heavy boot kicked him off the steel chair and another most likely cracked his skull.

"Hey, look at that. You do speak English. Never would've guessed."

"Come on, Matt."

Ah.

The woman.

That blonde, American bomb-shell type woman Light saw at the train station when L took him on a little eight-hour train ride was here too.

The whole world seemed to be working for L at this point.

When she came, it usually meant it was over for a while.

"Fuck that, Weds."

"No, really. Cut it out, honey. It's not going to help him."

"Yeah, well it helps me," a kick. A weak kick, one where the redhead hesitated not as whatever killing machine he was in L's personal arsenal, but he hesitated as a human being. And Light understood that the minute he was forced onto a motorcycle and got knocked out. This boy was just a hurting person.

"You should really leave him alone."

"Nah, I think I should beat him till he fuckin' dies."

"I don't think you will, you poor baby."

Matt's foot stilled in mid-air, and instead of finishing the blow to Light's gut, he spun on his heel and took a few steps away, only to heavily collapse into the metal chair.

"Yeah," Matt sighed. "I don't think I will."

"So just let him go."

"Who? The little shit or Mels?"

"The boy. Mello is going to be alright."

"No he won't."

"He will, he is a fighter and you know it. My job is to keep you from destroying yourself while he's sleeping."

"And who the fuck made it your job?"

"We just worry about you, boys."

"'Boys'? Fuck it Wed, it's only me who's left. You meant to say, 'boy', right?"

"L will be okay, too."

L.

Light's head unwillingly jerked up from the ground to stare into nothingness. Matt shot him an annoyed look. The beautiful woman pitied him.

L?

What happened to L?

L was… L was _alive_?

_No. _

"See? Even he has it in him to care. A little. I think that's caring, anyway."

"Nah. Watch this," and Matt screamed, "L!"

Light's body unconsciously shuddered and he curled up into himself despite the pain.

"See?"

"Ah, I see you know what he's thinking. You made a friend, how cute."

"Bitch."

The woman laughed.

"Cut it out though, before you end up doing something you'll regret."

"It's because of him!"

"No, it isn't, Matt. He did what he could to protect himself. You can't blame him. Mello went into that building to protect L. You went in there after Mello to protect Mello, and that's the end of it. You got burn scars to prove it to Mello when he wakes up."

"Weddy, he's not gonna-"

"Matt. If you want to kick something, you should beat Aiber. He makes a lousy nurse. If it helps, he was groping around where he shouldn't have when he was changing Mello's bandages."

"Fuck! I told him not to do that! I fuckin' do that!"

"Okay, okay. Get him for it later. That's not why I'm here, anyway. L is calling for you."

"What for?"

"Don't know," the woman shrugged flamboyantly.

"You didn't tell him about… that, didja?" Light received a pointed stare.

"Oh don't worry. I told him all about it, a while ago." she sang.

"And...?"

"And he didn't say anything. That was two days ago, anyway, just when you brought him in. Don't worry about it, though I think you should still let him go."

"So what does he want?"

"To see you, I guess."

"Huh."

"Matt, his heart is failing. He just wants to see _someone._ Don't hold Mello against him, of all people, not now."

This was the last Light heard of L in a long while.

Matt ended up coming back a few hours later. He gave Light water as his _birthday present_, and dropped him off at the front steps of some hospital in Osaka, which was very far from Kanto.

_Maybe there's a God above  
And all I ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you;  
It's not a cry you can hear at night  
It's not somebody who's seen the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

**

* * *

**

***

The first thing L realized after he woke up was that he couldn't feel his arms or legs, and that it took enormous amount of effort to pry his eyelids apart.

He couldn't even think at all, and so the first thing that registered in his mind that wasn't related to not feeling his limbs at all was that Mello's face looked kind of cool.

And then he blacked out.

When the time came for him to wake up the second time, he could understand slightly more. He was hooked up to machines that beeped so loudly it felt like L's skull was pounded with a hammer every time something made a sound.

He was in a room which wasn't a hotel room. In fact, it looked far from being a hotel room. The old wallpaper bubbled up at the edges and the furniture wasn't crisp and black or white, but warm, worn and brown.

And there were things, his things, things that actually _belonged_ to him, his books stacked into tall haphazard piles against the walls, and brown wall shelves packed neatly with pretty China.

L was... home.

And then he blacked out.

The third and fourth times were frustrating.

L woke up to realize that he had been passing out left and right.

He also realized that he could not in fact move his legs at all, and his arms were lead-heavy and he just couldn't get them to move properly.

Mello didn't answer any of his questions, most likely because L's mouth wasn't obeying him either, but the way Mello explained it made it sound like L shouldn't stress himself. Obviously the Barbie failed to realize not telling L anything made him even more stressed.

The first question he tired asking Mello was just what the hell was up with that really awesome-looking scar.

What came out of his mouth was this:

"Mellll… scaaa…- cooll …_caaake?_"

Mello giggled, practically danced to L's IV and L blacked out again.

"You were in a coma," Mello finally spilled his beans a few more episodes of waking-up and blacking-out later.

"Huh?" L said intelligently.

"You were in a coma. The kid got your lung, your lung collapsed. We managed to inflate it and save it, but your heart just kinda gave out. And then you went into a coma."

"Heart?"

L managed to get his hand to cooperate enough to push the paper dress his was wearing and look at his chest. A scar – a fully healed long surgical scar decorated his chest right next to another perfectly-healed scar of a bullet entry.

"Yeah. Your heart gave out. We got you a new one. It's pretty cool."

_The idiots gave me a heart transplant?! _

"Don't look at me like that, it's not a real heart anyway. It's like this half-plastic one. Still in trials for public, but you know how all doctors have their secrets, right? The thing's called _MagScrew_, how fucked up is that?"

"Plastic-"

"Yeah, plastic. Total Artificial Heart. It's really cool-looking. Kinda like my scar, yeah?"

L nodded in complete agreement. Mello's fully-healed scar that webbed though about two-thirds of the left side of his face was the most amazing, bad-ass thing Mello could ever get. Even better that that 'M' tattoo, or that piercing L was given absolutely no prior warning to seeing… and considering where that piercing was...

"Oh god, Mello..." L groaned his first coherent sentence.

"Yup. So anyway, you got the fake heart, and then you went into a coma."

Coma. Mello's scar was healed. L's scars were healed, too.

External ones, anyway.

It must've been a long time.

"You took a four-months nap, L. Makes up for about a year of not sleeping like ever, right? Which reminds me. You need to re-learn how to walk and stuff. It's gonna be the cutest shit ever."

---

L watched the large black irises survey the room. Near never reacted to his surroundings; the boy just looked with frightening observance at everything there was to observe: numbers of nails L's bed, color ranges on his China, unknown boxes and what the size and shape of each suggested was inside.

It was because of this anal attentiveness to everything that wasn't really that important that L guessed little Near was the most naïve and vulnerable of the bunch. The boy shuffled and fidgeted if he was thrown in any given room and forced to do things without taking full five minutes to stare down every power outlet.

Watari and Roger said it was something akin to safety precaution, and L never bothered correcting them. It wasn't L's China and inconspicuous boxes Near was afraid of, no. Fragile cups and headboard nails had everything to do with how much _visible_ these things would make Near look.

It was safe hiding places Near was looking for when he surveyed rooms.

A mental image of the pale, white boy hiding in one of L's China cups made him want to giggle, so he rolled his legs from his usual perched position to rest on his body on knees and reached out from the edge of his bed to the soft white hair.

"For the last time, L. I'm not a dog."

"Ah, of course." When Near was still a relatively small size, L made a habit of picking him under his belly and carrying him at his hip very much like a dog. Problem was, L came home annually at best, so no matter how typical the sight was, it was still very random, and every time L would do it, Near got bigger than the previous time.

L had no idea how he would pick up the seven-year old anymore.

Or was Near eight?

"Near, how old are you?"

Near sighed, mimicking frustration he learned from staring at people for _eight?_ years. Actually, when Near was frustrated, he stared at people. In turn, when he was happy, he stared at people, and when he was feeling rather breezy on a sunny day, Near stared at people. So it was kind of hard to guess, so...

"I am ten, L."

"Ah? Aren't you a little too small for being ten?"

Near actually did stare at L then, and L guessed Near was feeling bewildered by L's amazing China.

"I am not going to dignify that with an answer," the white boy droned in that girlish voice of his L suspected would never crack.

"If you aren't going to dignify that with an answer, it makes for a better effect if you don't to say anything at all. That way, you aren't dignifying that with an answer _and_ not dignifying it with an answer at the same time. Want to try again?"

Near stared at L.

"Ah? Aren't you a little too small for being ten?"

Near stared at L.

"Very good."

"Why do you have these?"

"I like them."

L's China. Near asked about L's China every time he entered L's room, as if any answer given to him was nullified after the boy in white pajamas shuffled his sock-clad feet through doorframe.

And every time L answered him, a stare of dissatisfaction crossed the pale face.

Near always looked for something, for some answer, some heartfelt, dramatic thing that made L fall in love with fragile China cups to this point of obsessive collecting.

Whatever wasn't normal surely must have been triggered by something so awful or so good that L hid it deep inside himself and kept it precious enough to never tell anyone.

Same with the killings, the massacres. L watched Near drive himself up a wall as the white boy tried to figure out what made L do it. Had someone wronged little L in such a vile way that made him hate humanity altogether? Or was it some debt to the mafia he had to pay?

Near looked for something that made L special; he was just too young to realize what he was looking for was actually something that made what L did _bearable_.

Near was looking for a traumatic experience that must have triggered all this... all this horribleness _not _because collecting China or killing people were unusual hobbies for an adult. Near was looking for an _excuse_ to give L. An excuse that would make L appear a slightly better person.

At some point, Mello looked for that, too.

But there wasn't anything. No dark past, no child rape, no parents dead in a fire, no mafia debt, no poverty, no stalkers, no dead friends, not a single thing.

Near would be very disappointed once he realized what he was looking for for all these years simply didn't exist.

L collected China because it was prettier than stamps and it made his tea look _beautiful_. L ate sugar because it was the most amazing thing in the world. L put half of the world though hell because it was more fun than watching Korean drama all day.

L did things because he was bored.

It was a shallow reason, but it was the truth.

Near on the other hand, figured some pedophile lured L out of his China-loving grandmother's house with sugarcubes.

At some point, Mello actually thought space aliens brainwashed L to do their dirty work for them, so in that respect, Near's theory wasn't that bad.

Things in the past shouldn't matter, anyway. It was only _now_ that was important.

"L."

"Yes, Near."

"Stop having digressions; it isn't polite when there is someone in the room with you."

"Ah."

"Roger sent me to take you down for breakfast."

L wrinkled his nose.

"_Porridge_, L. Yes."

"I miss it when they brought food up here."

"You can walk now."

"It was still very kind of them, considering I fund this place and all."

"Get up."

L rolled his eyes at the bossy white protégé, but he hung his feet off the edge of the bed nevertheless where they dangled until he found the hardwood.

He didn't like hardwood. It was hard against the bare soles of his feet, and cold in winter. L imagined it wasn't all that fun for Near either: the boy must shuffle to avoid slipping.

Eww, socks.

His heavy legs were still slightly wobbly when he tried running, but other than that, he was in great shape. It was as if nothing ever happened, take a few scars and the _heart_.

He purposely shuffled past Near, _just_ to stress how much taller he was.

"How childish."

_Well I may be childish, but I'm still taller than you. By a lot. _

Near rolled his eyes and reached out his thin, pale hand, and L pinched the long sleeve between two fingers. Near allowed to be tagged along.

The windows in the old bridge hallway plastered angled square beams of yellow light to the floor. Unlocked and open, summer breeze came in and played with the silver strands of Near's hair, surrounding the messy head of curls with a halo. Even the dust, caught in the pleasant rays of sunshine was given a halo.

L always thought about how everyone who walked these hallways and got caught in square sunlight seemed to have a halo.

Everyone except for him, that is.

Though L couldn't see his own head, he was sure he had horns.

"How long are you planning on staying this time?"

Which in Near-speak roughly translated to, 'You aren't sick anymore. Go away now.'

So L replied to what Near really meant to say.

"Who told you I am not sick anymore?"

"You are walking."

"Bu that does not mean I am not sick anymore."

Near paused, much like he did when he backtracked to some conversation he memorized word by word.

"Ah, yes. You are 'hurting inside'."

"Who told you that?"

"Mello."

"You should tell Mello not to tell you things he knows you wouldn't understand."

"No, I understand. You are hurting because you got 'owned by your little boyfriend'."

"Matt told you that one."

"Yes."

"Well, as you must know, that isn't right."

Near took in the information much like a camcorder.

"So you aren't 'hurting inside' and you didn't get 'owned by your little boyfriend'? Then why are you still here?"

"No, those are correct, but not the reason I am still here."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I am here because this is my home, Near."

"...and once you leave here, you will be hurting more."

"To a degree, I guess. Once I leave, I will have to do things to fix it."

"You will not do anything bad to him."

"Near does not know that."

"You will not want to do anything bad to him because you love him."

"Ah. And I love him because...?"

"As a reciprocal; because he hates you."

L rolled his eyes.

They entered a small and mostly empty dining hall with long tables and many old kitchen cabinets at the back.

First thing L did was drag Near to where Mello was devouring chocolate cereal.

"How many times have I told you not to tell this one things you _know_ he wouldn't understand?"

Mello said some incoherent number with his mouth full and slurped down some more brown milk.

"I am more than capable of understanding things, thank you L," said Near.

L patted him on the head and with a gentle shove to the back told him to go play with someone else. Near, of course, shuffled off to a deserted area of the hall.

Mello, still engaged by his chocolate breakfast indifferently pushed a plate of cooling oatmeal to the empty seat next to him bar-style; the small crowd of teenage children usually flocking around Mello (most likely pretending he was a girl) knew to back off, and much like in a western cowboy movie they hung their heads low and inconspicuously busied themselves with their breakfasts at comfortable hearing distance of five empty seats away, stealing occasional stares to the shady character of L who was trying to sit weirdly in a too-small chair intended for kids.

"Howdy partner," said Mello with flawless Texan accent in spirit of the atmosphere.

L failed sitting in the chair.

"I never liked these chairs."

"You know, Roger picked these crappy chairs with you in mind so while you're here, you can at least be forced to be like a normal person. Nobody else minds them."

"If I sit normally, my reasoning ability drops-"

"I didn't know you were so dumb that you need those 40 percent to _eat_, L."

_Much called for_, L admitted, dropped his feet grudgingly to the ground and started pushing his _unsweetened _(and already disgusting by itself) food around the bowl.

"I want cake."

"So you've been saying."

They weren't giving him cake.

Not a single crumb. No cake, no pastries, no Boston cream pies, no sugar cookies, no sweetened tea, not even a _crumpet. _

The most he could hope for was that sometimes after dinner, if he finished his steamed vegetables that tasted very much like salted cardboard, they'd let him have some _pudding_ for _diabetics_.

"They don't know if your new heart can handle your daily ten pounds of su-u-ugar." Mello sung.

"It can, they checked it, its fine."

"You have to start gradually-y-y."

"This is not 'gradually', Mello."

"Yes it i-i-i-" Mello had his breath knocked out of him along with his stupid song when L planted his foot in the middle of the blonde's flat chest and sent the Barbie trampling to the floor.

The boys spying on them either giggled or gave L dirty looks, and while Mello colorfully cursed L out in front of a relatively large group of small children while picking himself up from the floor, L grabbed whatever was left of Mello's chocolate cereal in chocolate milk and vacuumed it up quickly.

Needless to say, Mello was outraged and told on L to Roger, who in turn assigned L with potato-peeling duty as punishment for breaking his no-sugar fast.

This was how daily life went at Wammy's.

This was home, home for many kids who had no secrets, because through one way or another, they stole records and hacked databases to find dirt on each other. They were smarter than their caretakers, and at the same time they all were just little boogers.

Just like Mello, who was _Mello_, ended up having to mop the hallways for making a little girl cry by stealing her dress and wearing it openly, just like when he was just a little snothead , L, _the L_, was peeling potatoes, and Matt was busy having a heated argument with a first-grader over why the hell FF13 was so damn late in its release, and Watari was having tea brought to him by L for once, because L wanted company, and L sat with his back against the wall in the bridge hallway, hugging his knees and staring - just staring because looking ended up being staring when L did it - at little children as they passed the old bridge hallway and had their innocent little heads light up with halos of holy sunshine.

It was his home, and every time L was home, he didn't want to do bad things.

That was why he wanted to leave.

---

It was something akin four in the morning when L noticed the doorknob of his locked room tremble and turn. His lock snapped open and Mello tiptoed into his room with a large box and hairpins.

L just watched him, not bothering to move from his curled up position under three thin blankets.

"Go away, Mello."

"Oh, did I wake you up?"

"No. Go away."

"Oh, good. I brought you something."

And then L smelled it, though he should've realized what was in the box sooner. Lemon cream, vanilla. Chocolate base. Cinnamon. Strawberries.

Mello had a _whole_ cake.

L threw the blankets off and made a grabby-hands motion towards the box before he knew what he was doing.

"There, there," Mello cooed, crawling up over L's blankets and handed L a plate, "you're way more agreeable when you've just woken up, and I figured if I bribed you with cake you'll beating off the palm of my hand, so like-"

"I was not asleep, Mello. But do give it here." L insisted.

"Right," L felt his mouth water when Mello seductively lifted the lid off the box and carved out a large piece of the beautiful cake. "I wanted the chocolate one, but it'd be just obvious that I stole it, so I took this one 'cause it's the one _you'd_ totally steal."

L didn't care. He didn't' even bother admiring the pretty slice with four layers of cream-soaked sponge. He generously gave the plate to Mello and dug into the remaining 5/6 of the cake straight from the box.

"Disturbing."

It wasn't that Mello came to beat around the bush; the cake had its limitations time-wise. As in, how long it would take for L to consume it.

So Mello started talking about Light.

_Light Yagami. _

It was the first time L said that name within the walls of Wammy's. Without a doubt, Light was the main subject of every piece of gossip that has been floating around, but it didn't seem all that long since L had spoken to Mello about Light.

To Mello though, it must have been very long.

So L engaged him, because he owed Mello a lot more than a conversation that was done for his own good anyway.

Somehow it drifted to L being only himself to blame.

Mello didn't agree.

"Dude. Come on, you roughed him up once time. _Once._ You tell me everything, remember? I know for a fact you're as fuckin' harmless as a ball of yarn in bed."

L should really stop telling Mello _everything, _but instead of stopping he ate some more cake. It wasn't pretty, in fact four layers of icing were a complete mess with an gaping crater in the middle. There were just edges left.

"It's amazing what one time can do."

"You'll puke that out if you keep that up. Anyway, I still think it was kind of ungrateful of him, you know?"

"I ruined his life, what should he be grateful about?"

"Well he knew you were gonna take him away, and he knew the two of you were like one person, and he knew you actually cared about him but had to act all badass so you won't be suspected, so he should've... um, welcomed you with open arms, and been fuckin' happy about it. Yeah."

L's mouth was full and busy with cake to stop Mello from his tirade, and after a mighty swallow L stared at the blonde owlishly.

"Mello's thought process is not normal."

"_That _is not normal." L finished the cake. Just like that. Gone. There were crumbs and icing smears on the cardboard bottom, but no cake left.

L got up, stretched and dumped the box to the hardwood floor and without licking the icing off the box, it splattered. It was just hardwood. He'll clean it in the morning.

"Come on," he motioned to Mello just when the blonde thought L was going to leave him behind in _his_ bed, and let imagine disturbing things.

Mello could be very creepy sometimes.

"Where to?"

"I believe Mello said there was another cake in the dining hall's fridge."

There was. And it was _chocolate_.

"Oh, no you don't!"

It was sunrise. Early summer five-something in the morning sunrise. Mello skipped ahead of him and walked backwards though the bridge hallway, trying to talk sense into L about the _chocolate_ cake, but L wasn't listening.

He never listened to anything anyone said when they passed the bridge hallway. Mello was approaching one, and yes, there he was. Bright orange, rich as butterscotch box of light traced the outline of Mello's fine honey hair, lit up every curve and fold of that _scar, _as if reading him and scanning him for sins accepted him, and Mello was bathing in gold.

Mello had one of the most purest halos in the orphanage, and it never dissipated.

Mello wasn't the one to hold grudges..

L sighed bitterly.

They made it to the kitchens, and by scent alone L determined which of the numerous fridges hid his target, and then he looked expectedly at Mello.

"Fine."

The cake was brought out, and shamelessly, right in the middle of the most surveillanced area of the whole orphanage, they sat civilly at a table and started eating it.

This would get them into so much trouble it wasn't even funny.

Mello finished his slice and rested his head on his elbows, while practically lying on the table.

It took L half of the cake for Mello to start ranting about how he would get food poisoning, and eventually it spun into a half-screaming, half-scolding rant on the blonde's behalf while L just nodded dismissively.

"You're lucky you're alive!"

"Really."

"It's been fun and games L, but you survived thanks to a freak accident. A freak accident, L. You were so close to death, it's kind of ridiculous you actually survived."

"And now I am going to die from food poisoning, I repent, I am sorry to have wasted your efforts."

"- that point blank shot? Thank god the kid is the worst shot ever. He pulled the trigger while his hand was still loving. Had he actually stopped it, it would've been lights out, and any lower and it would've gotten your heart."

"Then he ended up nicking your lung. Higher and he would've got your artery, lower and you would have one lung if it didn't get your heart. Instead of ten minutes, you would've had three at best. If I didn't get you breathing, you would've had brain damage. Then Matt was there. There would've been no way I would've gotten you out myself, without him. Then after the… you know, explosion," Mello hesitated there, "we got you breathing but your heart failed. Your _heart!_-"

"Roger insists it failed because of sugar, though that makes no sense whatsoever and he _knows_ it..."

"-right, it was 'cause you're like a fuckin' ninja man. Lots of blood, not enough goes to the heart. If you were bigger and just as agile, your heart would've been fine, but if you were bigger that bullet would've went straight though your heart so it wouldn't have even mattered. Freak accident, L, I'm telling you. Then you can't get a regular transplant 'cause you suck and you reject anything. So we went and got you that fake one. And what you do then?"

"I go into an anesthesia-caused coma right on the operating table. Not uncommon, actually."

"Right, and most of the cases end with brain-damage!"

"I am lucky."

"L, this is the only second chance you get. The only one. You avoided death _eight times,_ just from that one gunshot. Karma says he _really_ wanted you dead. All your luck's been used up."

"I was lucky."

The chocolate cake too was disappearing at a very alarming rate.

"You're a freak of nature."

"More cake please."

Mello promptly shut up, realizing just how far he drifted off-topic.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes and plated him another slice of the chocolate cake without even making a comment this time. It wasn't that L was clueless; he knew this enormous amount of sugary cake after having had none at all for the longest time would do a lot of damage. He didn't care.

He dug in, again, and Mello hid the last slice away in the fridge. L promised himself he won't take it, for everyone's sake

After a pause dedicated to chewing, he decided his question worth asking, just for the sake of hearing someone _caring_ for him.

"If you thought what the boy did was so wrong, why was it that only Matt beat him up, and from what I heard, relatively lightly?"

Mello tried dancing around the question, slightly embarrassed, but then again he got embarrassed around L a lot, and eventually L always got what he wanted anyway.

"Well... 'cause killing him was as good as expecting to get no consequences for killing him. Consequences from _you_. Killing him was as good as accepting you were dead. Like... like you would never wake up to beat the shit out of us for doing it."

L smiled behind the cake, but kept a straight face otherwise.

"I see."

"...'you see'? That's all you're gonna say?"

"This is it, yes."

"Don't you fuckin' feel cheated? Just a little? He wanted you dead, for fuck's sake!"

"No," L shoveled a forkful of cake into his mouth and enjoyed the rich cocoa texture when he rolled it around his tongue, "Also, it doesn't matter what he wanted or wished for, not anymore."

"Doesn't matter? He wished for your death! As Ryuzaki _and_ as L! He as good as betrayed both of you, if there were like two of you, anyway, and you kinda didn't wanna kill him and shit."

"It doesn't matter what he wished for."

"No?"

"No."

L ate the crumbs of his slice without concerning himself with what Mello saying, and Mello calmed down.

"So... you're gonna do what, exactly?"

L stared at the ceiling, and the ceiling encouraged his decision. He got up and shuffled back to the fridge for that eighth and last piece of Mello's chocolate cake.

He plated it, feeling a childish grin of appreciation dance across his lips.

Delicious chocolate.

And then he said,

"It's my turn to make wishes."

**

* * *

**

A/N: First of all, wow. I was all hyper as I watched the reviews for last chapter pour in, but at some point I started crying because there were so many, and lots of them were these teary NOOOO things that made me cry; I felt like I ended some people's world.

It was premature to end the story there though, it was never meant to end there. There are way too many loose strands left. L needs a portion of the story to himself, too. Light had like 17 chapters.

And, don't feel disappointed. A point-blank shot would've been _very _deadly, and well, hopefully this chapter made you realize how ridiculously lucky L had to be to survive it. Pay attention, this is the only second chance he'll get-

L: And whatever shall I do with it?

A/N: Uhh, no. This is my time to talk. You had 9.5k words to yourself. Go away, I'm talking for once. I deserve it.

So!

**THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH TO EVERY SINGLE ONE WHO REVIEWED LAST CHAPTER. THANK YOU. **

**YOU ARE THE BEST.**

**This update wasn't going to come for another two weeks (like mid-July), because literally every room in my house is getting knocked down and renovated. I mean our cable plug-in thingie was dead for a few days. It's just hectic and I had absolutely no time to do this chapter. But, staying up 'till 4AM and working for the past week sure paid off. I mean, it was overwhelming how many of you needed this update badly. This update is my sincere gratitude, and it's all 'cause you've reviewed like you did.**

**I actually have no idea how I got this chapter out this soon, even if it's been like 3 weeks. Ugh, I really want a bed. I don't have one anymore. **

**You guys were/are the motivation, really.  
**

**So thank you, my readers. **

**Thank you. **

...

Umm, but 'cause I'm a bastard like that, DO IT AGAINN, WITH HAPPINESS, CAUSE L'S_ AT LEAST_ ALIVE, SORT OF?! ;D /fail

**What is this? You want to click this thing, yes?**

l

l

l

V


	19. Hell

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, if you're the Bleach-filler hater than there's something wrong with you, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH19**

**Hell**

"Get up," but Light didn't bother even trying despite any possible consequences. In fact, his only real response to the red-head's order was to try to pry his eyes open, but that wasn't possible because of the dried blood gluing his eyelids shut. His fingertips twitched and his lips parted, but really, any movement was just beyond him.

He was cold; the cement was damp and freezing, and when he still could survey his surroundings, he saw ice in the corners of the large warehouse area. And even though he was freezing, his body wasn't shivering as if having abandoned all automatic responses and gave it all to just breathing.

It hurt.

It hurt to an unimaginable degree, and as he was, Light still understood that this was just the tip of what torture could really mean. _This_ couldn't even _classify_ as torture. It was just beatings. Harsh and exhausting beatings, and as such, a battleship wouldn't drown from a minor dent.

But Light was no battleship.

And this was his limit.

He fought for consciousness because if he let it slip away, this would be it.

If he fell asleep, he'll die.

If Matt kicked him one more time, he'll die.

It was it, it was really it.

He didn't move.

"I said get the hell up!" Close. So close. Boots.

Not suicide, not a heroic death of a police officer... heavy, steel boots.

A waste.

"You dead?"

The boot connected, but it wasn't a blow. The heavy metal toe prodded Light in the stomach and a gargling noise left his raw throat, but that was it.

"No? Then get up!"

It was the last possible effort Light could give, but it was probably what saved him from having his brains bashed in one final time.

"...c-can't," he said, or at least he did his very best to say it.

A while passed and it was so quiet Light wondered if death was black, silent and empty, like the unimaginable, torturous nothingness of black, silent and empty nothing.

But then Matt's clothes shuffled and his voice didn't echo from five-something feet above him, but rather from very close by, and it said, "What, done already? That was fast."

Light really tried to crack an eye open, and this time the bloody crust gave and one eye just barely made shape of Matt's stripy shirt crouching next to him.

And then his breath went missing.

Smoking.

There was a smoldering cigarette in the red-head's gloved hand, and it was taking all the air away from Light.

He needed that air, damn it, and involuntary choking was a sure sign.

Matt just jerked him and rolled his limp body from his site to his back, making it easier to breathe, because frankly he was left in this position and just couldn't move out of it.

His air returned.

"Y'know, I figured you could take at least a week. You lasted almost two days, kinda pathetic."

Light said nothing.

"Fine, don't say shit, don't really wanna hear you say shit unless it's begging. Though this is almost as sad as it gets, so it'll do."

Sad... yes, Light was sad because things hurt.

"Y'know... I have official custody of you. He says I can do whatever the fuck I want. Says he doesn't care. How's that make you feel?"

Who says what now?

Light didn't understand. His thoughts didn't make sense. And he had many thoughts. About things. Thoughts about things. Thoughts that didn't make sense... thing thoughts...

"Hey I'm talking to you!"

It was suddenly colder and more wet and things were said and...

Water.

Cool leather gripped his chin tightly and an edge of a plastic water bottle was showed between his teeth, and he greedily drank the rest of the water that was left after being splashed into his face.

There wasn't that much of it, and he hungrily licked around the rim when no more poured into his mouth.

"Fucking eww! Do that again and God forbid you'll find out where that bottle'll end up!"

Light quickly retrieved his tongue and Matt dropped his head to fall back onto the hard cement.

Air came more freely into his lungs now, and his thought process resumed, only to have him realize he was laying half-dead in the middle of a warehouse and the kid who beat the life out of him had just given him water... and now was shifting away awkwardly.

"H-how... old are you?" Light said without thinking much about it.

"Shut the fuck up! That was fuckin' weird and you know it!"

"Weird..."

Matt produced another waterbottle he must've prepared earlier, and slowly poured that down Light's throat to avoid him going anything 'weird' again.

Light was just grateful for the water.

"I could be just keepin' you alive to beat the fuck out of you some more, but you pro'lly don't care, do ya? Bein' mostly dead does that to you."

Light looked up at Matt just when the later decided to get his goggles out of the way, seeing as it was dark. The real orange-red hair roots poked out from the mop of bright-red dyed ones as his orange swimming goggles acted as a headband, and... hetrochromic brown-blue eyes, that's why he wore the goggles in the first place, and... faint freckles.

A round face.

Freckles.

Really?

Maybe Light nailed it when he asked for Matt's age.

He cleared the full bottle.

His body hurt.

And from his crouching position over him, Matt looked down at him with disgust and uncertainty.

And Light looked back at him, without any expression, really.

"Stop staring at me."

Light obediently closed his eyes.

Matt sighed.

"Fine," he said in defeat, "get up."

"I can't," _remember?_

"Bullshit."

"I can't."

"What the fuck can you do?"

"Die?"

"Wrong. Let's use that brain of yours that L was praising so much, shall we?"

Light cringed at the mention of the name, but otherwise did nothing.

"What's your name?"

"Raito."

"Wrong country."

"Light?"

"Good, you are a motherfucking cunning bastard, agree or disagree?"

"Agree."

"Great, now why are you here, motherfucker?"

"Mello."

"And Mello got screwed 'cause you were trying to kill...?"

"L."

"When was the first time you met L?"

"January 8th."

"And you fucked him for?"

"Six weeks."

"What day was the FBI thing to commence?"

"February 20th."

"What day is it today?"

Two days in the vans, four days at his father's bedside... that made six. How long as he been here? Matt said something about it, but he forgot already.

"I don't know."

"Well, it's the 28th. Happy birthday, you shit," at which Matt showed a third bottle of water into Light's face, and frankly Light didn't mind the water as his present at all.

"You know what, here's something else," at collar of his shirt got flung open to expose his bruised chest to the cold air; he'd lost his top buttons long ago. Matt muttered something along the lines of 'this ain't weird, don't get any funny ideas you fag,' and said, "that's where you shot L. Right there."

He jammed his finder into Light's upper chest hard enough to crack whatever was cracked even more.

"I think you forget shit too easily, You'll need a reminder, yeah?"

The pain of a smoldering cigarette being extinguished against bruised bare flesh was astonishingly worse than ten kicks with steel boots to the head.

When Matt was done and Light mind recovered enough to think how kind it was of Matt not to do this kind of thing before, the scolding pain at a point in his chest right over his heart didn't ease one bit.

"There. 'Cause pretty much everything else you've received here'll heal. Get up, or it'll be your eye next. The birthday party's in some hospital. Dunno which one. Dunno where we are, either. People talk funny here though. Get up. Yeah, like that. I'm not helping you."

It did less than 'help' when Matt later told him, "yeah, and we'll be seeing each other again; count on it Kira-Kira-chan."

As it turned out, they were in Osaka, and being left battered, bruised, bleeding and unable to as much as call for help the back ambulance entrance of the hospital was as humiliating as the time L snuck into his heavily-surveillanced hotel suite and fucked his ass and dick with his mouth _so_ hard and good that Light was sure next time he'd masturbate he'd have to fuck himself with his own fingers. And his father hard the audio tapes of just how _badly_ he screamed for L to do it.

Hence the first thing he did when he woke up in a metal bed wearing a paper dress was, using his left hand to pry out a dull metal clasp bit from the frame of the bed. He slit his wrist with it.

All it earned him was a few more bandages and getting strapped to different, non-mental bed and a nurse to watch over him day and night, as his chart now read 'under strict suicide watch'.

Which, in Light's opinion, was long overdue.

He then got transferred back to Kyoto Main Hospital, and refused to see anyone but Matsuda of all people, and every time anyone else tried to pay him a visit, he threw a hissy fit just for the hell of it.

His father was recovering in the other wing of the hospital, so they talked to each other over the phone like idiots despite being in very close walking proximity from each others' rooms.

His daily routine became bleak and with the small TV mounted to the ceiling as he his sole companion, Light's life resembled what it was on January7th when he was a flat-broke depressed genius college kid going through a relatively normal family angst for his age with nothing to feed his abnormally hungry and multiple IQ points. The major difference was that he was...

He was...

He _won_.

The depression and peace were the white flags L waved in his defeat.

And as satisfying as a victory could go, the only real pleasure Light got from it was the expression was the knowledge that he won. After that it was just a digression, and though his life felt empty, his levels of content were anything but.

L was dead.

Light won.

And somehow it wasn't enough to know he'd won, there had to be something, something from L, acknowledgement from L that when L issued the challenge he didn't expect to lose, and L lost, and Light won, and L had to acknowledge Light' victory.

With his _words_.

With his _face_.

With something that would show just how much L had _not_ expected Light to win.

And L never did that.

Because when that gun discharged, L's face was...

Blank.

Blanks as it always was, worried, but otherwise...

Neutral.

_L didn't even know he lost. _

And it grabbed Light's intestines and nagged.

Nagged and bothered Light like nothing ever did in his life.

And there was nothing that could complete things for him.

It was like a climax waiting to happen, every day, every minute of every hour of wakefulness, it felt like L would admit his defeat...

And yet he never would, because he wasn't alive to do it.

It sucked because it was Light who played the cards wrong to win, but never get the thing he wanted most.

And he couldn't help but think how _next time_ he'd get it right.

How he'd spit on L's grave, laugh at him and tell him he'd lost.

How his story would finally be complete.

**

* * *

**

From:** MattsuoLovesMelissa **

_...this very powerful Penis Enlarging Device is now available in your local __**hospital**__. Its unique __**leather**__ structure will make the hot __**blonde **__**Barbies**__** explode**__ with desire!_

_**Awaken**__ your inner beast today! With __**surgical intrusion**__, you will experience up to __**19 days of downtime**__, but the possible __**scarring **__in your scrotum areas __**once you awaken**__ will be nothing compared to the __**fury**__ you will __**unleash**__** on your partner**__ in bed! _

_**Taking revenge **__on your ex__ who __**L**__aughed at you after you've __**smacked**__ your small penis on the table and __**beaten**__ your ego was never this satisfying! __**You**__ will find that sticking to one partner may seem like a __**bad idea!**__ With our new Penis Enlarging Device, the only one __**disapproving of your smoking vengeance**__ will be your __**Melo**__dramatic girlfriend._

_Buy today! _

_Sincerely, _

_-__**Your friends**__ from your direct supply __**warehouse**__. _

_**We apologize**__ if you have not subscribed to this service. __Click Here__ to unsubscribe or __**reply**__ to this message with your concerns._

_We are an honest service. We do not ask for your personal information, or else we would be __**in trouble with our superiors. **_

_Enter personal information below to purchase our amazing Penis Enlarging Device:_

_Name: _____

_Credit Card Number: _____

_PayPal Password: ____  
_

...

Right.

Any respect Light had for Matt's intelligence have shrunk, dried-up and died with this e-mail.

Seriously._ Seriously._

And if Mello did wake up and Matt found it important to report his condition, L's condition must have remained the same throughout. Dead.

And _this_ sealed it.

The letter was dated three months ago; it wasn't exactly Light's fault he didn't see it 'till now as he was strapped to a bed for seventy-three days and eleven hours, but he half-expected some kind of contact attempt from Matt seeing such a thing was as good as promised upon their parting.

He just didn't expect it to be so...

so...

_so_...

Light just had no words for _this_, so he gave up.

He didn't reply to it right away, either.

His things were put into the back of a police car and with his dad muttering reassurances and Matsuda happily humming in the back seat they, drove him away from the hospital, _home_.

Finally _home_.

Home, but not free of charges of first-degree murder of Ryuzaki Rue, involvement into a highly-illegal NPA-FBI cooperation project, as well as, of course, being the leader of a homicidal cult.

But the bail was on government anyway.

Home-arrest without access to communicating devices of any sort until his first hearing. Eleven days away.

And yet here Light was, checking his e-mail and about to start communicating with somebody _very_ wanted.

Eleven days.

Within the next eleven days, he would be left completely unsupervised for the total of _twenty-two hours._

The twenty-two hours were precious.

He could _definitely_ do it.

Light tweaked his father's laptop logs a little before logging off, grabbing a set of clean clothes and heading for the shower at three in the morning.

He enjoyed one thing about the Yagami residence shower, and it was the fact that it was tucked away behind the kitchen, away from bedrooms.

Unlike the hospital showers, their shower was _quiet_.

Unlike L-HQ showers...

Unlike the shower in his rental where L...

He thought about L a lot.

Thoughts were intangible; their intangibility was what shielded him from the ears of strangers, and it was the privacy of _his_ shower was what shielded him from the eyes of people who should not see such things.

Light thought of Ryuzaki, of L, every day, every minute of every hour of wakefulness, and when he slept, he dreamt of L, L, L, L in all his shabby glory with his trademark circles under his eyes, a lollipop in his mouth and messy hair that was as soft as a toothbrush, his long fingers and pale, smooth skin, his cool hands...

Light's hand slowly trailed down along the streams of hot water over the gentle curve of his navel, past the soft curls and there wasn't anything he wanted more than to fist himself and pump hard, but the slow torture of gently tracing his shaft up and down with feather touches felt so much like L's sleek tongue, and it wasn't something he could deny himself… deny L...

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool tile and slid down to his knees. A strained sound of pleasure escaped his throat and he had to grab onto the lower shower tap as his own finger ran down the underside of his half-erect member.

It's been so long since anyone touched him.

And it was good, as good as when L did it, and L sure made it last, so he teased his head and it still wasn't nearly enough, so he pinched the foreskin and pulled away, jammed a nail into the slit, and did it just like what L did to him all those times...

...and there were no sparkles or hard moans, there was just pain from scratching himself so he gave up on that, fisted himself and pumped until he became hard and red and up.

His mistake was cracking open one eye to look down to find nothing more than his own hand pleasuring himself. It was disappointing.

"R-ryuza-ki-," it left his lips subconsciously, and the sound of that name came louder than millions of hot water droplets falling from the showerhead. His breathing was labored, the water was unbearably hot and there was definitely not enough air at the bottom of the bathtub, and finishing this and moving on now was as good time as ever...

But Light wanted L.

He wanted L to be doing this, L to be touching him, fucking him, L, L, L-

He jerked himself franticly but only found the will to come slipping away though the cracks between his fingers despite being _painfully_ hard.

Pain.

His erection was throbbing, almost purple now, hard, thick, precum dripped off his fist and all he could do was moan and squeeze it so hard he could barely push it though his fist and yet there was no orgasm.

Nothing.

"No, oh god no..." His eyes stung from salt in them and being unbearably thick as he stared down at himself, unable to come, in scorching pain.

Light sucked up his tears and left his weeping erection alone, reached for the tap with shaky hands and turned on cold water.

This couldn't be happening, this was his first time in so long, and he wanted it, and he just couldn't... It was mental issue. Completely. Totally.

Light tried to distract himself with his thoughts.

The water cooled quickly and very soon the water stabbed him like millions of sharp, heavy icicles, and he sat on his knees, shaking, watching his throbbing and thick cock pulsate and the stupid, useless erection just wouldn't go away...

He cried out and turned the water off.

"D-damn... damn y-you!"

Ryuzaki, Ryuzaki, Ryuzaki, L, _L, L,_ "L!!", _L, please God just let me come, please..._

He sobbed and while still on his knees smacked his face onto the empty bottom of the tub, his ass high in the air, reached behind and let his middle finger trail up his inner thigh.

God, this was humiliating.

His erection gave a painful jerk and he fisted himself again, praying this would work.

_Good God this isn't right_, he thought, but when he let two of his fingers pull the outside of his hole, the tight muscles there gave a ridiculously pleasing spasm.

It was so warm on the outside and so _tiny_; it didn't feel like anything at all would fit in there. It felt so tender and fragile that anything excessive would surely rip it, and-

"OH GOD," he shouted when he forced three fingers with absolutely no lubrication inside of himself, "s-shit..."

Pain. Gnawing, scorching pain, like L took his dick and shoved it into Light raw, but it was only three fucking fingers...

His erection seemed to think otherwise.

He was so close to coming that his knees shuddered heavily and the muscles around his three finders clamped down to a degree where Light couldn't even pull it out.

He tried wiggling, gently, because fucking himself and imagining it was L's large, thick dick inside of him instead of his own hand seemed to be working, but nothing.

Not a thing.

So he did the only logical thing remaining.

He spread the fingers inside just like he'd put them there in the first place, harshly, without thinking or letting himself relax into it.

And because he was clenching at those fingers so tightly in the first place, it took an enormous amount of effort, and he muffled his screams every time because his was in his own house with his father and mother and little sister sleeping for fuck's sake, but after five or so times of doing that his tight passage became slick and it became easier.

He didn't even want to find his prostate, he just... stretched and ripped inside himself, in pain pretty much everywhere, and then finally, finally, he was allowed to come.

He came excessively, and not a shred of pleasure that was supposed to accompany such a rich orgasm was present.

None.

When he came to, he was in the same position, face first in the cold tub, covered in his own semen, bent over and spread open, with his fingers still lodged inside of his tight and convulsing hole.

He looked down under his stomach and between his legs.

The pools of water from the shower were scarce compared to sticky white fluid covering him and the walls of the tub. He even felt some on his face.

And amidst of white tub, clear water and white come was very clear, bright pink. It pooled around his knee and melted into the water. A sharp red line ran up his knee to his thigh, around his softening dick and disappeared from sight.

Light slowly pulled his fingers out of himself, and sick and wet noises followed the exit.

He looked, clenched his fist into a ball, punched the wall of a metal tub repeatedly and bit his lip to avoid crying in anger.

Surely enough, he was bleeding inside, and his fingers were covered in blood when they came out of the _place_ where L _should've_ been _instead_.

* * *

L: ...but I am not dead.

Light: ...well actually, since this is a leap back-in-time, you're still in a coma, so you have no way of knowing if you're alive or dead. :D

A/N: Light does have a point.

Anyway. **Thank you to every single one who kept up with the story or went and read the whole thing just now or skipped to this chapter or... I don't even know. You guys win at life... FOR REVIEWING! TNXLOL. **I love dumping unexpected things on you, there's a bunch more to come. And other things. Like...

What I really meant to say was,

**WE HIT 500 REVIEWS! OMGOMGOMGOMG THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!**

We just needed a little bit of a calm-before-the-storm chapter. Yeah, there's another one... Don't go "ugh, can't they just screw already?"! THEY ARE IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES! Cybersex in NOT an answer!

Matt: My penis ad won at life.

And because I just finished up to chapter 22 with only proofing them left, I'll go and die somewhere because I did this in three days with two hours of sleep. Or something like that. I think I fainted here and there.

**Please review, you want to, and it gets me uploadin' and stuff. **

Magic Review Button that will get you an update:

l

l

V


	20. Mirror

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, OUR SHINY NEW CAR PWNS LIFE, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH20**

**Mirror**

"Although I do not place any blame in Light Yagami for his very elaborate plan to kill me, principles aside, punching him in the face a few times seems rather pleasing right about now," L ranted and threw up. Again.

From somewhere not very far above him, from as far above a person heaving over a toilet as an eight-year old boy could reach, a small hand patted him on the head very indifferently.

Near said how the fact L was vomiting cake all morning was L's own fault, and then, somehow, something as insignificant as food poisoning grew into L's faults of having the whole Light thing blow up in his face. Which was typical of Near, because when Near said something that was about the indisputable truths of the world, it always came as a wake-up smack in the face.

It was depressing, it was.

Bending over a toilet with chunks of vomit caught in his long black hair, messy hair with a small child to pat his back and tell him things he did not want to hear.

When there was no more cake to come out the wrong way, L's stomach was empty, but the aftertaste was nowhere near enough letting L think he'd ever eat in his entire life.

He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, pale, the usual package, except for the vomit spit around his mouth and the hair he paid no mind to and collected with a rubber band.

Long hair, hair nobody dared to touch while he slept for four months and recovered for one more.

It was a foot longer than it was last time he remembered, just as unmanageable; expect that this version of him looked nothing short of an ugly girl.

"Near, go fetch me some scissors please."

"About time."

While Near went to look for scissors that simply did not exist in L's room, L locked the bathroom door and hopped into a shower stall to wash the sweat and the acid away from his body and hair, and by the time it took Near to get real sharp scissors clearance from the older girls in the crafts department, L was redressed in a fresh set of clothes that looked identical to his last.

"You are wearing clothes while you are dripping wet."

"It is summer, I will go outside to dry off."

The man staring back at him though the two-way glass was a bad man, a man that should have no business around children.

"I hate this part."

He wanted to stay here for a while longer, though.

So he turned away from the mirror and took scissors to his hair and snipped somewhere around the ear area.

"Oww."

"You cut yourself."

"As Near can tell by the blood."

"Clean that."

Instead, L pinched his earlobe with toilet paper and the long strands continued to fall away.

"It will be easier if you look in the mirror that is right behind you when you are doing that," droned Near.

L only turned to check his work once it was finished.

Kind of short on one side, kind of short everywhere actually, and yet when it dried L had no doubt it would look identical to what it used to be.

L never changed.

Things changed around him, Mello grew up, the children came and went, it was L who was always L.

Though now he was even more of a heartless bastard than ever-

This was a heavy thought, and heavy thoughts like this wasn't allowed _at home _, so he scrapped it for the time being and walked around aimlessly.

He strolled around the general outside for a bit until he was completely dry, careful to avoid any unnecessary encounters with human beings that were two feet tall at best, and came back to his favorite spot. The floor of the bridge hallway.

He sat down to sulk.

Then Mello came out of nowhere wearing a fresh set of black pajamas he wore in the middle of the day, and offered L a cup of lime pudding.

"Common self-preservation instincts tell me not to take any food Mello has to offer."

"Fine, I'll eat it."

L snatched the pudding.

"You're thinking of your boyfriend."

"What gave Mello that idea," L droned, fiddling with the silver lid.

"You always get that lovesick bunny look on your face when you're thinking about him."

L thought about it, and agreed.

"Seriously? You're gonna take that?"

"Why not, I _am_ in _love_."

Mello frowned but said nothing.

They were leaving tomorrow. No more games, no more silly punishments, no more waiting, thinking, sulking, no more fragile caring for tiny, insignificant things.

L dragged a fingernail against chipping hardwood under the baseboard. Smell of old wood will be gone, just as the smell of sweaty clothes, home-made food and unwashed hair.

"In love with that boy?"

"What boy?"

"Kira boy."

"No, no Kira is a girl."

"They had a fight."

"No, Kira is his wife."

"Kira is a killer, like him, they had a thing going on."

"Is she pretty?"

"Didn't you hear me? Kira is a boy!"

"Well, does he like him?"

"Who?"

"Well yeah, he's going to go back and make up with her."

"Him."

"I like red skittles."

"Who is she?"

"Kira!"

"Is that a bug?"

Mello's laughter rang over the quipping, and the school of small children didn't disappear when L hid his face in his knees and counted to ten, wishing they turned into fish and stopped talking in favor of gulping for air at L's feet.

It didn't help that L was sitting on the floor, and their snotty little noses and big loud months were on the same level with his head when they surrounded him like bees like this. L flailed his hands around and when that didn't help, he hid his face in his knees and counted to _twenty_.

"She is the one that made him sick though the spring."

"He had the love bug."

"Should we get the nurse?"

"Get Near, she's the same color as the nurse."

"He is a boy though."

"Near is a girl."

"WHO ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?"

L couldn't take it anymore. He uncoiled from his position and using Mello as leverage tore though the crown of small children piling on top of him and pulled himself up. The children clung to his jeans, clutching the worn denim with their greasy hands and if left alone, they would have hung there until next Christmas, and L had to hold his jeans by the belt rings because he liked his jeans loose, and the children were heavy, and his pants were falling down.

"He is leaving."

"What? Ellie is leaving?"

"Don't leave us, Lily!"

"Luu is leeaaving!!"

And then they started crying. At the same time, collectively, as a single item, and their cries and shouts became a single sound in L's ears, and his eardrums threatened to give out.

So he plugged one ear and reached out for a child while shouting, "ENOUGH! FIRST ONE TO MAKE A SOUND IS A ROTTEN EGG!"

The sudden silence left clear ringing in his ears.

"ALRIGHT, _you_," the child he grabbed was no more than five and had drool all over his shirt. L tried not touch the drool when his large hands wrapped around the tiny torso under the arms where there was sweat, and the boy went up in the air. "little boy-"

"I'm a girl."

"Girls don't drool or sweat."

"That's right. We_ perspire."_

Clever little beasts.

Of course Mello was long gone, and there were at least ten pairs of impossibly large and expecting eyes staring up at L.

"Little girl. What do you want to play?"

The girl thought about it for three seconds, "put me down, I have to think."

"You can think fine up here."

"My thinking ability drops 40 percent when I am three feet above the ground."

Little brat.

L put her down, and her boy shoes barely touched the ground when she slapped L's upper calf because it was as high as she could reach, and all ten to fifteen children scattered like cockroaches when she screamed, "TAG, ELLIE'S IT!"

L could just walk away.

Instead, he chased a boy he was sure _was_ actually a boy, poked him on the top of the head and ran away.

A school of ten to fifteen children grew into horde of twenty to thirty children, and before he knew it, the game of tag grew into a mass chase after L by thirty five to forty very small children who kept tripping over themselves, picking themselves up and laughing though tears and dashing after L across the entire orphanage.

At around seven, when the dinner bell rang and L walked into the dining hall, he held his pants up with both hands to keep them from being dragged down by Near, who of all the children, managed to catch L and attach himself to L's pant leg securely. Not by running, Near didn't _run_, or even playing with everyone else, more like, by hiding behind a doorway L would sure pass though eventually, and _leaping_.

"Doing a little bonding, yeah?" said Matt around a spoonful of mashed potato.

"He won," L stared down at Near who stared up at L, "where is Mello?"

"No idea. Out."

"Matt doesn't know?"

"Nope."

"And Matt doesn't want to come with us tomorrow."

"Nope."

"Why, again?"

"The Star Trek con."

"Of course."

"So Mello's out, and I figured you'd wanna talk to someone-"

The tray.

Old silver tray with L's china, tea and biscuits.

Right next to a plate of mashed potatoes and boiled chicken, just waiting for L to _eat_ it.

_Oh God._

"Yeah, I thought so. You're not gonna eat that, are you?"

L looked at _it_ and his eyes watered.

"Absolutely not." Matt happily moved L's plate into his own eating proximity.

"Right. So tray with tea, you, old man, take, talk about your boyfriend you will, young Skywalker…"

"What?"

"Go with peace, but go..."

So L _went_, or maybe, _ran_ away from the boiled chicken.

A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he wouldn't be able to walk into the Yagami household and whisk Light away into the indefinite sunset, no matter how much he hoped it would be the case.

And oh, he hoped.

The tray wasn't heavy and L was used to balancing things like sugarcube towers and licorice wells, but he was sure when it came to carrying trays with fine china, tea cattle and diabetic biscuits, Near would do a better job.

But L lost Near somewhere between the food and leaving the food behind.

Or Watari could carry it.

But having Watari carry the tray would defy the purpose since the second cup was _for_ Watari in the first place.

Just the tea though. Not the biscuits. The biscuits were L's.

L didn't knock on the heavy wooden door before jamming a toe into the crack and prying it open with his foot, but his manners were at their peak with the tea and the biscuits, and the highest courtesy _anyone_ could ever hope for was when he announced his presence.

"Mr. Wammy?"

"Ah?" Newspaper. Fireplace. Old plush chair that was as old as the man in it. Books. Book cozies girls of the Wammy's orphanage made a habit of giving Watari. Coffee table.

A bit of pie on the table.

L wondered if Watari would trade or share.

"I have tea," he announced as if declaring a VIP pass and softly pushed the door shut with the sole of his foot.

This room did not have a lock or even a doorknob. It was always open, for everyone who wanted advice.

With proper offering, of course.

Hence the book cozies and doilies and knitted toys. Love advice. All these were payment for _love_ advice. From eight-year old girls who should really never knit in their entire life.

L sat the tray on the table while Watari folded the newspaper.

"I was wondering when you'll come, Lawliet."

L's hand stilled for a moment.

"Mello and I will be leaving in the morning."

"Yes, I've heard from Matt."

"Matt is not coming. Sugar?"

"No, cream as usual please. Thank you, L," at least Watari knew not to push it with the name, "are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I have not asked, have I? I am more than capable of dealing with this on my own."

"I don't doubt that at all. You may need someone there with you depending on what you decide to do."

"I have Mello," L sipped his bitter _very_ lightly-sweetened tea and grimaced.

Watari laughed with that throaty good-natured laugh and L wanted to cling to the wood leg of Watari's ancient chair, scratch it until old paint got lodged between his nails and flesh and be happy.

Instead L civilly sipped the tea like a grown man.

He wasn't five years old anymore.

Or eight.

Or ten.

"What should I do?"

Watari smiled.

"You should always do the thing that makes you happy."

So he should scrap the whole professionalism of altogether and go for it. …like he had any.

"Mr. Wammy has been saying that for years."

"And you still aren't happy."

L gave Watari's pie a glare.

"I would be happier with _that_."

"Ah. Biscuits please."

They traded. L's pie turned out to be butter-and-nuts, and kind of old and crusty. It was sweet though.

"Oh, aren't these just delicious. The baking club?"

"I would think."

"_L_."

"I left stickers for whoever made them, in exchange."

L gnawed at the edge of the dry nut pie in deep thought.

He would _not_ turn red.

He would _not_.

_I traded this thing for the chocolate Mello smuggled in for me, _L meant to say but instead, of course, he lied, "I also made _this_."

It was worth a chocolate bar, and even without the fasting order in place chocolate was worth hella-lot in L's book...

…so L pulled a crumpled toaster cozy out of his pocket, smacked it on the table and stared straight ahead and not at Watari.

The man in the nicer chair than L gave another throaty laugh.

"I will accept this, although I can't think of a book big enough for this. This is for a book, yes?"

"It is for a book," L lied.

"Who made this?"

"I made this." _Linda did._

"Which Linda?"

"Me."_The little Linda._

"The little Linda is six."

"She may be six, but her toaster- ah, book cozy is better than _that_ one."

"Matt made that."

L eyed the bright blue jumble of yarn around an unfortunate book that will never be opened again unless the cozy was massacred.

"That... he used knots and his hands for that, didn't he?"

"I can't imagine him using anything more than that. Although by the looks of things, Linda used chopsticks."

L looked down at his cozy. He'd seen worse.

It was the best his chocolate could get him, anyway.

"Matt-"

"-it was chocolate roses this time, L. Are you sure you want to know?"

"No," L shrugged, "anyway, my question."

"Of course."

"Yes."

"Your question, L?"

L looked around the room.

"I don't know what my question should be."

"It's about Light I assume?"

"Well I _am_ in love with Light, aren't I?"

Sure, L believed it when everyone around him told him he was in _love_.

Just... not the _absolute_ love but some other kind of love.

When someone was in love-in love with someone else, the person who was 'loving' would constantly think of their loved _one_; if L was in love-in love with Light, he would've been thinking of Light and nothing else in the world. He would think of Light when he woke up and when he went to sleep, he would see grass and think of Light because Light surely walked on grass... L would see Light's image in his oatmeal for Christ's sake.

He didn't.

L thought of cake and Mello and Hong-Kong and orange things and cats.

His mind wasn't completely preoccupied with Light Yagami, and sure as hell he didn't want to spend every waking second in the presence of a person who would _vacuum under L on impulse_.

So L wasn't in love-in love with Light, just... some other kind of love.

He hoped that he could get out of this particular kind of love, too.

So L told Watari all of that.

"I would think not."

"So I can't get out of it," L droned.

"Love isn't a death sentence."

"I may not be sentenced to 'love' though either, as everyone who is _five_ and has no business _gossiping_ about my private matters seems to _think_."

"You don't think he's important to you?"

"It's not that. I have been 'in love' before, have I not? That went nowhere."

"Indeed it had."

"But this one wasn't even supposed to be anything, I wasn't' even trying for 'love'."

"Wasn't it?"

"I just liked the way he looked! I mean, he can put any man to shame with his looks alone, and his mind can put his looks to shame."

"Yes?"

"And he was trying to be better than me, and if it wasn't for Mello's fixation with Amane, I would have paid no mind to the Kira thing at all. And if that saved me by a fluke, his whole performance with the FBI was nothing short of brilliant."

"Oh?"

"...and I lost to him, fair is square. I was debating if I should just lay low and leave him alone _because_ he won his freedom."

"He won it alright."

"But then I thought about it and decided that being impressed with him almost killing me is not right at all and I should be angry, and almost doing the job is not the same as doing the job, and I'm doing well, thank you, and I am a sore loser, and as such I shouldn't admit defeat until I can't deny his victory, which will be when I die."

"That's drastic."

"And he is pretty and smart and he pretty much won me over, and..."

"Yes?"

"…and he is pretty much everything I want-"

"Well there you go, son."

L thought about his own conclusion.

"…if all Mr. Wammy has to do is listen as I vent, I would like my toaster cozy back."

Watari put his empty cup on the tray, stood up and under a watchful stare patted L's shoulder with a broad smile, declaring the discussion officially over.

L stared at the hand, then at Watari's mustache.

_Mr. Wammy's_ mustache.

"Mr. Wammy?"

"Lawliet, I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"You want things now; you finally, truly _want_ things."

"I wanted things before."

"Not like this you haven't Lawliet; this time you're willing to pay for the things you want."

L was willing to pay for the things he wanted.

Alright.

Watari smugly showed L and the empty tray to the door, "run along now, Linda is waiting for some advice regarding Near. Poor boy is hiding from her, but I hear she will be bringing me some fine Swiss chocolate."

**

* * *

**

Hours before the sunrise Mello crawled into L's room and stole L's blankets. L claimed he wasn't sleeping anyway, grabbed his backpack, and they left. It was the middle of the night, and instead of projecting bright squares of rich, yellow sunlight, the windows turned into mirrors with pitch blackness behind them, _daring_ L to just take a peak, almost whispering,_ ' just one, not a big deal, check if you're a saint, L, check, you'll see, you'll see…'_

It was the forbidden fruit to look, L never looked, L would find nothing holy in his own reflection, L stared straight ahead, L always stared ahead.

"I'm gonna tell you something L, and don't get mad, okay?" Mello muttered from somewhere behind him.

"You think I am doing something stupid."

"Well..."

"_Mello_ -"

"No, listen. You should know this. Whenever you talk about him, you don't sound bitter and wistful. It's in the sound of your voice. You sound _sore_. Like, from _defeat_."

"Mello could have said this sooner, could he _not_."

"Dude, easy. Just saying something you should know before you meet him again; you should meet him again. When you think about him... L, what do you think about when you think about him?"

"I think about what he is doing. A lot."

"That's it?"

"And how I will get him."

Mello sighed.

"Mello, _what_?"

"You don't think about the future with him, do you?"

Mello was implying L just wanted Light for triumphant revenge. This wasn't difficult to see.

"I will think about it when I get him," he said. Mello was wrong. Wrong.

But the blonde pressed.

"You know, you don't look like a lovesick fool when you think about him. I lied."

Mello was wrong.

"_You_ can tell when people are feeling when you look at them. I don't think you look in the mirror much. So think about him and look in the mirror. You'll see a frown. It's ugly."

'_Yes, look, L, take a look, just one look. It won't hurt you. He says it's okay, just turn your head. You'll see, you'll see.'_

L grit his teeth and walked faster.

"Watari said I was ready to pay for the things I want, Mello. Watari has experience on you."

"Yeah, L. I know. Just think about what you want him _for_."

L turned his head, but caught himself in time and instead of looking sideways, he glared at the cracked ceiling of the bridge hallway where a yellow water stain framed the deep crack in plaster as he passed it. That water stain had been there for years, and before it got there, there was a spider web there every summer, but after the roof leaked during a summer flash storm, the spiders never returned to their crack in the ceiling.

The roof was repaired and never leaked again, but nobody touched the interior of the bridge hallway. It smelled old, the paint peeled and the plaster chipped. Glass got broken and replaced; a soccer game knocking out a window or two was no big deal and the windows _everywhere_ were always new, but the hinges and the window frames and the wooden sills and the rusty heaters were the same as they were twenty years ago.

L didn't need to look at them to know this.

L was always Mr. Wammy's favorite. Mr. Wammy was always in charge of renovations, and L liked the old bridge hallway just the way it was, and if the too-small chairs were strategically placed to piss L off, the old bridge hallway was never renovated preserve L's only place of solitude.

L knew how he felt towards Mr. Wammy. And Mello, and Near. And the hallway.

But these were old things.

Light was _new_.

"Mello, we are going to grab Light and ask him what I should do."

Light would most likely tell L he should go and jump off a very high building, but it was the only choice L really had. Watari said one thing, Mello was saying another thing, and L hadn't the faintest idea what to do with Light when he got him.

"That's new."

"It's logical."

"Two minutes ago, you were gonna just take him to Australia."

"I will ask him before I do that."

"Snatch him from his home just to ask him."

"Yes. He should be under house arrest awaiting trial right about now."

"So we grab him and ask him, 'cause he's at home, waiting for his trial."

"Yes."

Mello said nothing, giving L time to lay flowers on the graves of his best hopes.

"He is awaiting trial. We may still catch him-"

"Not a chance."

L rubbed his forehead and gave up completely.

"He is _so_ going to run away."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: THE RECESSION/DIGRESSION CHAPTERS ARE DONE! TADA! Short break is over, back to heavy plot now lololol. **

**I love everyone who reviewed last chapter! **Thank you shoutouts to **Dacara, isamu-michi, incandescentglow, Nardaviel, ellan54, Sovoyita, rain angst, Anna Marie Lynn, Purple Glass, music-is-luv, Rose, happyalien, Myuberry**, _Annonimous_, **lil joker, fluffy2044, IsobelAnis, ssjRaina, It Which Lives Under Your Bed, Favorite Crooked Smile, evil anon lili, pixie-lyric, Not Yet Knowing** and **HoshitheHors** with fireworks!

**I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY GREAT AND WONDERFUL. ILU! DO IT AGAINNN…! OTL**

**L:** Oh no, I see what you are doing there. And I know what comes next...

**A/N:** I would like to introduce you to our new guest speaker for the Author's Notes!

**L:** You can't be serious…

**Chapter 21**: Hello, I am Chapter 21. I contain L's return to Japan to where he finds something he had NOT expected. I am the beginning of a very heavy set of trill chapters that make Three Wishes look like peanuts. I hold L's shocking conclusion to his own feelings as well as hints of the final chapter of DT (which is still very far away).

Currently, I am being held hostage by Miss King. You better do as she says, or something bad will happen to me. :(

**A/N:** If you want to see chapter 21, you _will_ review. Or else I will sit on it for more than a week like I did with this chapter. Ho ho hoo.

**L:** That is low, Miss King. Very low indeed.

_Free Chapter 21! Press the Magic Button!_

l

l

l

V


	21. Happiness, pt 1

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I suck at chess really bad, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH21**

**Happiness – pt.1**

It was gradual but oh no, not slow; the dark thoughts built up and filled out his mind quickly, but it was still _tedious_ because every thought that came to his mind was broken down into smaller thoughts and thinking patterns.

The pattern that emerged was anything but pleasing or _nice_, and the further L got away from Wammy's and England, the weaker his will to suppress these thoughts became. L found himself flying thousands of feet above an ocean and wondering what the _bloody hell_ he was thinking. And he realized his facial expression was as friendly as _a world-class serial killer's_ expression _should_ be, and he realized the half-empty plane became crowded in parts where he wasn't, and how even Mello moved away from him far enough to be able to jump out of his seat and make a run for it should L snap.

And L felt he really should snap and humor the flight attendants and passengers by snapping their necks and arriving in Japan with a plane-full of dead people just to prove a point, maybe more to himself than anyone else, that he, L, was a crazy murderer.

As L seemed to have forgotten.

As he allowed himself to forget, as he allowed that little fake-brunette bastard to forget.

That he was L, that he was as safe and cuddly as a sack of spikes, that he, as L, didn't tolerate defiance, that he, as L, did not _lose_.

L could easily see how his rare spark humanity was very easy to take advantage of, how L would rather believe that beautiful boy than see the truth and kill him to save himself.

He wanted that boy, badly, there was absolutely no doubt in that. He wanted to smack him around, to make him repent for what he did, make him realize L wasn't going to harm him because L was a lovesick puppy when that stupid boy decided to stab him in the back...

L was feeling betrayed and wronged, and instead of sulking when he was feeling sorry for himself, L made people repent and realize it was too late to repent.

But more than anything, L wanted that stupid little back-stabbing bastard to see how L fell in love, and how love didn't go away just because of a stupid back-stabbing prank gone terribly wrong.

L would have still been a love-sick puppy, still and as heartless of a bastard as he himself was, he would have still found it in his heart to forgive and move on.

But there was an issue of the _heart_. The heart he didn't have anymore. Instead of his own living, beating heart, the hole in his chest that boy carved out was filled with tiny plastic tubes and chemically-treated animal tissue.

It was _nasty_.

And it was the _price_.

The price for being a heartless son of a bitch who made countless families father-less, or mother-less, or child-less and very unhappy _and_ look for his own personal happiness.

…and finding that happiness in a boy, and slowly slipping into a state of blissful oblivion where there was L, the boy, and their own personal happiness.

The heart that let him stay in the state of blissful, happy oblivion was gone. It was a price to pay.

And it was paid in full.

His physical heart was served to Light Yagami on a silver plate, and with that heart, Light took L's ability to remain oblivious and happy, the happiness itself, and most of that love.

This was the price to pay for Light Yagami.

There was love left.

Nasty kind of love, the best kind of love that nasty fake heart _thing_ that kept him alive could provide.

Vengeful, hating, selfish... not even sexual in the respect of caressing that soft, beautiful skin, but sexual in a way to show that at the end of the day, L was still top, and the beautiful person that captured L's mind and would never let go was still powerless to stop his moans and screams.

L would do that to him, oh yes.

How far were they?

Mello thought about an hour.

Chances of _Raito-kun_ actually staying true to his word and not skipping the bail were ridiculously nonexistent.

As still, L hoped for both of theirs sakes' that when L got to the Yagami residence, Light would spread his legs, or God help him if he wasn't _there_ to do it.

All this had much to do with his leaving Wammy's, he wouldn't _dare_ to think about these bad things there.

And now he was set free to think whatever he wanted.

And this was it.

He was going to catch _his_ Raito, because, L realized, his only wish was Light.

Having him, just having him. Not _owning_ him like a thing, not having him constantly around, and not having access to his sex parts whenever L damn well pleased, either.

_Having him. _

Whatever that meant, L would figure out later.

_After_ he'd caught him and scared the living shit out of him, and quite possibly smacked him around lightly.

They arrived in Tokyo in the early morning, and while Mello complained about the jet lag, L purchased bullet train tickets and two beers.

For himself.

"You know, you're one scary motherfucker when you drink," said Mello and L paid him no mind.

He drank alcohol when he was angry. The strong kind. He'd prefer a Scotch, but the vending machines only offered beer, and at least beer was cold and would help the unbearable heat and stickiness of late summer.

He also needed extra guts to walk around Japan in broad daylight with Mello in tow when Mello's sketches (and nothing but, because Matt took care of actual photos) were plastered all over billboards and poles where glue melted and leaked from the summer heat, and he, as Ryuzaki Rue, was something akin to being resurrected.

Thank god for Mello's convenient scar.

This was okay as long as they didn't run into NPA members that experienced them first-hand.

Then, L remembered the beer in his hand and realized beer was a little _too_ low for his dignity, so he gave it up to Mello in favor of fresh lemonade.

The Yagami residence was... L had never been anywhere near here, so having checked the number of the house matched the house where Light should have been, Mello parked the inconspicuous UPS truck.

L would go in, grab Light, and go.

And according to what was Soichiro Yagami's car parked in the driveway, Soichiro Yagami was home, and no reports of Light going missing came to police that showed up in the database, so Light should be home right now.

"Take out the chief, grab him, if you're not back in four minutes, I'm going after you."

L pulled adjusted the bulletproof vest under his UPS uniform.

"No go, Mello. I'm not touching the father, nor are you."

Mello gave him a pointed stare.

"I like him a lot more than his son right about now," Mello opened his month, but L cut him off, "don't even think about it. Four minutes."

He hopped out, and Mello shifted gears and re-parked the truck right in the Yagami driveway, blocking the chief's car and the garage.

L rang the bell, a cloth soaked in chloroform ready...

Once, twice.

No answer.

He knocked and yelled something about a two-thousand dollar computer that had to be paid for upon delivery. Anyone would freak out and run for the door for that, and all L got from that came from the lazy summer breeze that ruffled the Yagami lawn.

But no answer.

_Shit. _

He dropped the box he was holding, the chloroform rag and dashed around the house, knocked out a kitchen window, shrugged off the UPS uniform jacket to fit though easily and landed on the sink counter. His running shoes squeaked against the marble countertop and L shrugged out of them in under a second before hopping off the counter soundlessly in his socks.

The kitchen was spotless and there was no food.

The woman of the house was not home.

This left Light, Soichiro and the little sister.

The TV in the living room was off, and a set of pink house slippers lay in the corner of the room right next to a coffee table with a pile of fashion magazines.

Light and the father were the only ones home.

It was quiet, very quiet, and L didn't need to go upstairs to know there was nobody there. This was a traditional house. If anyone was walking upstairs, he would hear it. Shoes in the hallway were only Light's.

But the father was there for sure. The car was there.

Something was up. The house sounded empty, and now would the time the father should be picking up Light for the court hearing.

He was in for more than four minutes. He heard a tiny piece of glass break against the marble counter.

Mello was in.

And then he heard it. A soft gulping sound and a high moan coming from the room with the TV and the coffee table. The sounds were faint, and L could not have missed a person in that room unless the person was on the floor and not moving.

He whipped out a gun with a silencer just in case, and looked at the only blind spot of the room where there shouldn't really be anybody.

But was.

"He's gone, let's go," Mello hissed behind him, but L didn't more from his spot in the doorway, and Mello was behind him in no time to see what L saw.

"Shit, dude, don't even think about it."

"R-raaaito...?" gasps for air interrupted Soichiro Yagami from finishing whatever he was about to say. The man lay on the hardwood floor with his eyes barely open, clutching at his shirt in a fetal position.

Heart attack.

He was having a heart attack.

His cellphone was just out of his reach, and so was the ankle brace used for monitoring suspects that were not supposed to exit a certain area.

Yagami came home to pick up his son only to find an ankle brace. Had a heart attack on the spot.

"Let's _go_."

L pursed his lips together.

This man was going to die if he _went_.

"L-! Seriously?"

L was at Soichiro's side at once, holding his shoulders down while pulling the man on his back and giving him breathing room.

The man looked like he'd seen a ghost for only a moment before his face turned furious despite the pain.

"YOU-"

"Mello, call ambulance from the house phone, monitor the streets, tell me when the car is five blocks away," Mello whipped out the iPhone Matt equipped with emergency vehicle monitoring system and picked up the nearby phone without a complaint.

L was still in charge, Mello knew when to listen, and Yagami was getting angry in favor of getting _worse_.

"Y-you son of a b-bitch-"

"I suggest Yagami-san focuses on breathing rather than saying things that are suicidal seeing _both_ positions he is in."

"Get the f-fuck... awa-y from my s-sso-"

L didn't hear any of it and got the man up on the couch, threw the flowers out of a small vase and gave him water.

The faint foam and spit around the man's mouth splattered when he tried to explain just how much of a bastard L was and why in a very impolite manner, and L held him down to keep his air passages open and gave him water.

Mello declared the ambulance was almost five blocks away.

"Y-you pi-piece of-"

L looked down at the Chief.

Though L didn't find Light Yagami yet, L found something else.

_Thank you. _

They grabbed their things they left around the house and left the same way they came, and the UPS truck sped past the rushing ambulance.

_Humanity, huh?_

---

Mello didn't say anything on their way to return the UPS truck to where they 'borrowed' it from because a stolen UPS truck would no doubt arouse suspicion, nor did he say anything when they switched cars to a very old Volvo, changed their clothes to look as trashy as ever and checked into a single-room love-motel for the night.

This was the safest thing to do on such short notice, considering L thought exactly one day ahead of things, and now they had no plan.

The old TV the motel room provided talked briefly about the NPA chief suffering a heart attack and recovering in a local hospital before asking for donations for the local animal shelter.

Nothing on Light. Light's whole affair was hushed from the public because well, NPA did screw up catching L big-time, and to save face they were probably going to cut Light a huge deal and put him in minimal security for a year at most anyway...

And still, Light ran away.

Of course he would.

And the worst part was that L didn't have the faintest clue as to just where the hell that boy went.

Mello was checking the surveillance videos of train stations, bus stations and ATM machines for any clues, but Kanto was big, Matt was at a Star Trek con in England, and teenage gangsters that wore hoods and sunglasses around train stations, bus stations and ATM machines were plentiful.

In short, this would take weeks, L didn't have weeks, and Light, being the attention-loving beauty he was, would surface shortly.

So all L had to do was wait.

So he sat on the floor, then on the chair, then under a table. Then he walked around the bed for a few minutes, then he sat on the floor again.

Weeks didn't pass.

It was hot. The air of the room was getting stuffy already, despite having a functional air conditioner.

Mello was getting hungry, tired and grumpy.

And just as L was about to go downstairs and grab some food form the vending machines because this kind of place very obviously didn't have room service, the do-not-disturb sign at the other side of the door was bluntly ignored and someone _knocked_.

Mello looked at L, L shrugged.

A fat, balding man with grease all over the few hairs he had left stood in the doorway two heads shorter than L.

"Hey, o', sorry Sir, uh, I'm int'rupting, but y'see, yer... lady friend, good day t' yer lady friend, got a box waitin' fo' 'er downstairs wi' my reception girl," the man gave Mello a look and turned even more red and round, "'m sorry, yer _sir_ friend got a box. Ya gotta get it, the kid left me tip ta give it ta ya, but that was a week ago-"

Mello gave L a questioning look, but L didn't know what was going on either, so the blonde followed the fat man and came back in under a minute with a box.

"What the hell," said Mello, setting a newspaper-wrapped string instrument-shaped box on the bed.

It was...

_A violin case. _

L tore the newspaper wrapping off and found a sleek, black leather case. It was heavy, it didn't rattle. It was full. The lock was golden.

"Is that expensive?"

"No, it's a knockoff," L opened it. The fine curves of the violin inside were magnificent. The coating sparkled and the strings were tight. The rounded edges ran in a smooth line around the entire body of the instrument.

In was very nice, though L could tell just by looking at it it was not the real Antonio Stradivari deal this violin was made to imitate, it was still very, very delicate.

"It's kind of orange," said Mello, and L resisted an urge to whack Mello with a drum stick to get him to appreciate finer instruments, "so what's up with this."

"Mello, there is a major library nearby, isn't there?"

"Yeah?"

"This is from Light," L felt small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

"He's fucking here? And he risked shit to give you a present? L, there's something wrong with your brain."

Yes, _technically_ this was a present for L.

"No, this is for Mello."

Mello looked at L as if L plucked the bird out of the sky and ate it, alive, with feathers and everything.

"Mello, do you know the story of the Devil's Trill?"

Mello knew.

"Light does too. I told him once he was the Tartini of the story, chasing me, _the Devil_, but never quite catching up."

"So he gave you a violin."

"He gave _you_ a violin. See, he tried catching up to me, but he thinks I'm dead now, so he can't catch me anymore."

"..."

"This means you are the Devil now, and he gave you this so he can race against you as Tartini. He could have easily gotten a real one. This is a knockoff, and it's for you because you are the new L, but you will never be as good as me."

"He must be devastated. So he gave you this fake, so he can go after you, so when he can defeat you, you can die and give this fake to me, and I can take the fake and know I wasn't as good as him, so then our roles would be revered and he would finally be the Devil. This is what he's missing. He needs this."

L sighed, closed his eyes and smiled, tracing the smooth violin with a fingertip, and Mello didn't disturb his peace for a long time until he came up with something to say.

"Okay, L. Two points made here. He's fucking insane and you're fucking insane."

Yes.

L would agree to that, it was the delicate insane truth, and both he and Light were guilty of indulging in this insanity.

This violin sat here for a week like the fat man said, waiting for a blonde boy that looked like a girl with a scar to check in and pick it up.

"How the fuck'd he know I'd be here?"

"A _hunch_."

Mello tired prying, but L didn't tell him anything. Instead, he told Mello that the violin was ultimately for L anyway, so he should just give it up. Mello had no problem with giving up 'that creepy thing', so L took it out of the case and looked at it lovingly for hours with a stupid grin on his face.

This motel-

**

* * *

**

"How many fingers am I holing up?"

"Six."

The young man was heavy, and L's white sweater was soaking in water by the time he carried, or rather dragged, the unconscious body to the dedicated motel-slash-headquarters.

The unconscious body was lead-heavy and ice-cold and the absence of heat transferred though the water though L's sweater and onto his skin, crawled up his spine and made him shudder.

The best idea would have been to leave the young man where he found him; that is, two feet underwater.

Or maybe just get rid of him altogether because other than monitoring Mello's involvement with Yotusba, he had nothing to do, hence he crucified a random man he on a nearby sakura tree.

That blonde... _girl_ had a thing for trouble, and L was sure this would end badly should L have stayed behind. It was because trouble didn't find Mello, but rather Mello specifically hunted down trouble, and when trouble managed ignore him, Mello would take trouble by the shins and make it stare at his face. Hence L was watching over the blonde.

Then he got bored.

Of course, this young man he carried could easily serve as a decoration to an apple tree, or something of sorts, and oh, L was genuinely considering what kind of thing he should do with this unfortunate bystander, but the soaking boy currently draped limply over his shoulder seemed very much like a screamer, so keep him quiet L made mistake of having a conversation with him.

And it was a question, a stupid question at that, asked only to distract the drunk boy enough to knock his lights out, and still...

_Six. _

An answer of _six_ to the question of how many fingers on _one hand_ L was holding out could explain many things.

Why this young man was drunk on a weekend before exams while he should be cramming, for example. Answering 'six' to the number of fingers on one hand could mean that no amount of studying would help this stupid lovechild of traditional culture and angry rock music; hence he was drunk and depressed.

That, however, wasn't the case at all.

Not with this boy.

It was how that six was said. It was... like despite being intoxicated to the point of not distinguishing ditch from sidewalk and giving a stupid answer, the young man answered 'six' with the confidence of a person who had never been wrong in his entire life.

_Six_ was said in an _absolute_ manner.

_Six_ was said with _power_.

_Six_ made L actually look down at his hand and make sure one hand, in fact only had five fingers.

Hence the young man still had a heartbeat when L took a room from a female clerk who was too busy to pay proper attention to a shady character and an unconscious victim in favor of furiously arguing over the phone with what appeared to be an angry girlfriend.

L made a note to make sure that clerk would not see the end of the day, just like this boy...

So he dumped him on the squeaky mattress of the love motel and watched the blue lips quiver and the clothed chest rise and fall. The room was lit well, and the damp locks stuck to the pale, freezing skin quite beautifully; despite as good as dying slowly from hypothermia with no consciousness to save him, the pretty person in bed was _quite_ pretty.

Maybe it was the lighting, or the angle, but the man on the bad was perfect in every sense of the word. How L didn't notice this before was beyond him, but in his defense it was pitch-black where he'd first caught this beauty. L turned the light off and walked around the man.

Still very pretty.

Very suddenly, L was regretting knocking the boy out.

Maybe he could just... no good. In addition to being as conscious as a rock, the soaked beautiful young man was also as cold as a rock.

And that couldn't be very pleasant.

Judging by the looks of it, hypothermia settled before L even got to him, and though the weather wasn't nasty, it was still early January. He was going to freeze to death.

L should just leave him.

_Six_.

"Hey. Wake up," L smacked the pale cheek a few times.

Caramel eyes met his, but they were narrowed into liquid-gold slits, and the shivering was getting hectic.

"Cold? Yes, well-" L let his eyes trail down the lithe body in appreciation... well, if the boy was awake, it changed everything. L undid the buttons on the soaking shirt, creating warm friction by rubbing circles with a bedsheet on the flesh as it got exposed.

So many possibilities.

L threw the clothing at the heater, just in case, and the realized he shouldn't have done that either, because drying the clothes for the boy implied he would let him out of this, one too.

Still, though...

Letting someone as soft-skinned, well-built and physically incapable of resisting L's advances go around clothed would be a shame.

L made a little hood out of the sheet and wrapped the young man in it. He looked cute, and just barely conscious.

Alcohol and cold were never a good idea, but then again, what L was going wasn't such a brilliant idea, either.

For all he knew, this boy could cause a war.

Hell, he could even be L's downfall.

_Not likely_, L thought, and made his common sense shut up. He would do the boy into the headboard, hard, and _then_ do away with him. There. The whole six thing was probably just a fluke-

"W-warmm..." the half-dry brunette head pressed into L's chest, as if begging for comfort.

"Yes, sure," L refused it, of course, and pushed the boy back and onto the bed, "just go like this, yes."

Though he didn't stay down for long; he tried rolling to either side and curling up into himself looking for warmth, or at least attach himself to L's neck, so L smacked him away and pinned his hands above his head, flat on his back, and cute whine stroked his ego when he took away the bedsheet.

The young man had a very nice body, and dressed in nothing but socks and underpants, L's member gave an approving twitch.

_Oh, for God's sake. _

L barely got him to the bathroom and over the toilet before he heaved heavily. L resigned, sighed and rubbed circles on the lightly toned back, even held the damp hair out of the way.

No, having sex with him now was definitely a bad idea, though oh, was L tempted despite the smell of acidic vomit and heavy booze.

It was here that L decided this pretty young man would live at least long enough to prove himself in bed. In L's bed.

But really, what could he do?

The boy was drunk, that much was obvious.

There was barely a chance he'd remember L's face from when he first grabbed him.

This little encounter he would most definitely not remember at all, because being woken up form drunken stupor would most definitely not register. Ever. Now was _the_ perfect time.

For some reason, he didn't feel like it. But maybe he was just making excuses?

Why would he do that?

L would just have to get him later, won't he?

He could always make it a game.

He waited 'till the boy finished vomiting into the motel toilet, cleaned him up and carried him back to the bed because at this point, walking was proving troublesome.

Well, at least he was warm now.

L sat him down on the bed. Instead of sitting upright boy collapsed, but his eyes were still open, staring at L.

"Hello," said L.

"Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Wa's _your_ name?"

"I asked first," L lifted a finger up childishly.

"I du'n care."

"Hmm."

"Say... I saw you kill som'ne there, din't I?"

L's ears perked. Not good.

"Yes, so?"

"So I was tryin' to do that too."

"Oh really? To whom?"

"To me."

"But have you not asked me not to kill you then?"

"Huuuh?"

"Ah, never mind. Can I ask why?"

"Why I tried killing 'me'?"

"Yes."

"Cause it was _fun_."

"Fun?"

"An' not boring, an' it was som'ng I'ven't done before."

L thought about the situation he'd found this young man in.

"Were you trying to drown?"

"Yeah, in a river, and it had sharks in it, and it'd be exiting to get eaten by a shark."

_More like, extremely painful,_ L noted, amused by the conversation more than he should be.

Besides, L didn't find this boy in a _river_ full of _sharks_.

L found him in a decorative pond with sparkly fish.

"So you don't want your life anymore?"

"Not really."

"I can take it, then?"

"Nope."

L wondered if the boy realized he would most definitely receive death if he asked for it now.

"But if you don't want your life, why not just give it to me?" he tried again, almost hoping the shivering brunette would sign away his life there and then, and L wouldn't have to deal with whatever would happen if he let him live.

"Nuh-uh. My life. You can't just _have_ it."

"Why not?"

"'Cause tha's boring. I wan'... I wan'... I wan' to die in an exciting way. Like... like go with a boom, y'know? Like, in a _game_, maybe."

L didn't like where this was going. With every word this young man slured, L was getting more and more... intrigued. Trapped. This was fun.

_Fun. _

L wanted fun, too, more than anything, and if the _six_ and the _fun_ would prove to be a challenge...

"A game?" L thought about the game first. Then, this boy thought the same. Was this somehow… bad?

"Yea, y'know what? I'll bet my life, 'cause you want it."

"Alright. What do I have to bet?"

"Mmm... your happiness."

"My happiness?"

"Everyone wants happiness. I want happiness. If I win, I get your happiness. Thanks, b'the way."

"For what?"

"S' like, you saved me from suicide there. Thanks."

L stared at him then.

L didn't save people from suicides.

L killed people.

Or L made people commit suicides.

"Your face's funny, I liked your face better wh'n you were checking me out."

"Really now?"

"Yea. Make _that_ face again and," and the boy uncoiled from his warm ball awkwardly, "you can help yourself. Y'know?"

_L knew. _

"Want to play a game with me?"

"Talk to my lawyer about it."

"What?"

"My name. Don't you want my name and phonenumber?"

Charming.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Six."

"Still six? What about now?"

"I don't have to count that one," said the boy proudly, "it's just two hands, so six by two. _Twelve_."

Logic.

Powerful, flawless logic.

L wondered briefly before pulling out an L card from his back pocket. This card was a death sentence, and L watched dully as the beautiful young man scribbled his name and phonenumber at the back of it.

And with the last sloppy chicken-scratch stroke, L wondered if the boy knew he just signed a death wish.

"Call me," he winked.

L stared at the card. It was a reminder not to get too carried away with this one.

And still, he'd play until it became repetitive and boring, and though each and every step this boy would make, L would take ten ahead, and he would know whenever there was something up, L would know...

Because he was L.

Because L was careful.

Because L didn't take unnecessary risks for anyone.

Because L always knew what was going on.

Because L would never lose his head, over anything.

Because L always made the correct, safe decisions.

_Because L didn't lose. _

"They game is on, then."

The boy said nothing, finally asleep.

L grabbed the warmed and still semi-wet clothing from the heater and did the shameful job of dressing such a perfect body.

What the heck was he thinking?

This was just another boy, a college kid by the looks of it.

He wouldn't be able to keep up with L.

Game L's _behind_.

He'd screw him later, get it out of his system, and move on.

That would be the end of it.

**

* * *

**

Matt: The irony, no?

A/N: What are you doing here?

Matt: Well, since I'm the senior executive VP of kidnappings of this story and shit, I'd like to proudly declare Chapter 21 free, on time, as promised.

A/N: That is **CORRECT!** Thank you Matt! Proper update, within exactly a week, Friday morning. Why? Well because the reviewers did a good job of bribing the Chapter away from my evil withholding claws.

Shoutouts for reviews go to** DrRabbit, lil joker, Sueona, Hello, IsobelAnis, Sovoyita, Nardaviel, happyalien, incandescentglow, angellovedark, ellan54, fluffy2044, merichuel, Black-Dranzer-1119, justakid123, Memories Faded, Dacara, Emery Board, My Favorite Crooked Smile, nasc3nt, Your Alien, lili evil anon =], Katsheswims, bubblepop, s3v3n-d34d1135, Not Yet Knowing, Kyro259, Rin5o, LMNear, rain angst, ssjRaina, Donatellolover, JediMasterWithAPen, amycakes, Anna Marie Lynn, Hime, Dark Green Poop, ArtistOfLight** and **AngelToes! **I haven't ever seen some of you guys before! XD Amazing what threats can do, no? LOVEEE!!!

I LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU **THANK YOU!** You guys are great and wonderful and** I love youuuu**, and I got a few reviews about the children and L, and just like when people were saying, _"Lemme guess, Soichiro's gonna shoot Light and L, L'll kill him and they run away, am I right or am I right? 8D"_, I can't really say anything other than hold yer horses. It'll come after the Happiness is over.

Light: -eyes Happiness- How many...? _Oh God_, how did you even...?!

A/N: Don't ask. T_T Anyway, newest guest speaker!

Chapter 22: Hello, I am Chapter 22. I contain a hunt with a twist. I don't contain any boring Light-narration, thank god, but I do hold insane plot from hell in which Light finally wins.

Matt: What does he win?

Chapter 22: Who knows. But unfortunately, I am tied up in Miss King's basement. I have no food to get strength from. I will die if I don't get strength. Good news is, **reviews** give me strength to get out of here! :D

A/N: -sits down at chapter 22-

_Help Chapter 22 break free!_

_Press the magic button and review!_

l

l

l

V


	22. Happiness, pt 2

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King,__ FML, and I do not own DeathNote, FMLx2. _

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH22**

**Happiness – pt.2**

"-because I am a genius, Mello."

"Right."

"I am."

"Yup. You're a genius. Right 'till you realize this is really stupid, you can play genius. I'll be Batman."

L raced down the highway. The headlights in the old Volvo were old and dim, and L could see three, maybe four feet ahead at best. The lightpoles framing the road were becoming increasingly rare, instead the trees sprung up more, and the serpentine road snaking around the mountainous terrain was very light on traffic.

Or maybe not so much, but it was dark, and L wasn't really paying attention to anything but racing through the type of road one really shouldn't be racing through. In the middle of the night. With practically no headlights. On an old Volvo that threatened to lose a tire on every screeching turn.

And it made Mello irritated, L could see it by the raised hairs on Mello's neck, by the way he gritted his teeth and gripped the door railing.

Mello wanted to sleep.

It was 2:08 AM.

And had L been driving like a normal person, Mello would sleep.

But Mello couldn't sleep for obvious reasons, and instead chose to give L hard time, making L feel a need to justify himself.

"Baw-baw-baw Batman!" Mello sung.

L was pretty sure this wasn't how it went.

"If he knew where to find _me_, it's only fair I would know where to find _him_."

L's new Stradivari knockoff was resting safely back in its case and original newspaper wrapping at the back seat.

L even buckled it up.

"True. It's fair."

"See? And Mello was worried I drove him for thirty hours for nothing."

"Nah, that's okay."

"I will make it up to Mello."

"No, really man. It's okay. It's an occupation hazard, and I'm ready for it."

"Occupation?"

"Yeah. As Batman."

L reached out to smack the tired blonde, and nearly drove them off-road and into a massive pine tree.

"Sweet mother of Jesus, fuck it L, either get the hell out and I'll drive, or you fucking look where you're going! One day you'll hit something and your head will get cracked open, and where the fuck would we get a brain transplant?!"

"Hmm, that has more than a fair chance of happening," said L dramatically before brushing it off, " but not today, Batman."

And joking was a mistake, and a mistake of making a mistake was enough for Mello. The blonde gripped the handbrake in the middle of the car threateningly.

"Okay, seriously. Stop the car, get out, go cuddle with your cello or something. Get some sleep. I'll get us there myself."

"Violin."

"Out."

"Violin."

"Fucking Triangle that goes 'ting!'. Back seat. Now. Oh fuck L, OH HELL NO, not _now_, stop the car first you fucking psycho-!"

Another joke.

He wondered just how much it worried Mello.

When L was buckled up - or rather, tied up with the seatbelt - at the back seat right next to his violin and Mello was driving, safely, considerably slower, and the engine roar was stable, and the trees passed the window in a long, even row of trees and lightpoles and occasional animal-crossing warning signs, it was dawn.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

"I was not asleep, Mello."

The dashboard clock read 5:55 AM. The time L figured they would already be there.

"We are still driving," he noted

"Relax. He's hitchhiking or taking a bus. Or fucking walking. He'll get there… _here_, tomorrow at best. Oh look. We're _here_."

L squinted and focused his eyes to read a sign as Mello sped past it.

WELCOME TO TSUWANO

Old, yellow or pink low-rises with peeling stucco towered high and advanced over ancient single homes, single-building pawn shops, gallery-shops and dirt off-roads.

It was stale. Old.

This early in the morning, the small and forgotten town was empty; two cars that passed the stolen 1990 Volvo made the piece of junk fit right at home.

Mello said something about staying at that cabin he always stayed at when he visited this place that was as much in the middle of nowhere as Mello's cabin was.

It was going to be scorching hot in a few hours.

Air-conditioning.

And a bed.

L insisted.

Mello took them to one of the few Inns in town. It was completely empty, of course, and L was at the point of tapping Jingle Bells on the clerk bell before a woman in her fifties showed up to give them a room.

"What are you boys doing so far from the city?" she kept prying, already giving Mello The Eye when L asked for a single room suite with two queen beds.

"We're on pilgrimage," said Mello cryptically and winked at her. She stared, and after a short mental debate whether she should ask or not, she walked away.

"A pilgrimage," said L once he settled and curled up on the furthest left of his bed. It was too early to do anything. They could sleep until noon. They covered half of Japan in under forty hours on car. They deserved it.

Mello changed into an oversized black shirt and L's poor bed yelped and L was thrown in the air when Mello charged and dove next to L cannon-ball –style. L would give Mello five seconds. "That's right," said Mello, settling in, "This is my pilgrimage spot. That you violated."

"Mello should avoid saying things like this while his is in my bed."

"Correction. You're in my bed."

"Mello's bed is in the cabin. With bears."

"Ugh," said Mello when he became acquainted with the moldy hotel carpet.

"Indeed."

"Fine, I'm fucking off. Jerk. How the hell did our high-horse boyfriend end up agreeing to come to my dump, anyway?" Mello shuffled to his own side of the room and his own bed.

"I did not tell him where we were going."

"Uh, wow. Okay, Lemme guess. You said you were going on a shopping date to a place with lots of hair salons; you bought a train, put him on it, kidnapped him, took off. Am I right or am I right?"

"Mello is incorrect."

"Huh."

"I _rented_ the train. Wammy insisted."

"Wow. For what, again?"

"Spiritual cleansing. Mello, we talked about this in the car, remember? I mentioned my 'good catholic friend' who comes here. He knows who I am, he knows who you are, he knows we were cooperating before I died. He is after you, and this is his only lead on you. This place is also significant to him. He is coming here."

L left Mello to speculate the thought.

"All while assuming you're dead… you know, we kinda have a very unfair advantage over him."

"I have right from the start."

"…and yet he managed to get away from you like, four times. And almost kill you. And then there is a problem of, you know, 'now what?'. Yup. You're a genius."

"Yes, Mello. Here is my genius plan: he comes here, we catch him. Then he tries to kill me twenty more times, problem is, we're in Mexico. The end. Good morning, Mello. Go to sleep please and stop bothering me."

It was beyond any doubt that Mello did not believe a word L said anymore. L didn't need to check Mello's face for light muscle spasms that would indicate distrust, nor did he need to listen for fluctuating voice pitch or strategic drifting off-topic. L didn't like to use these things on Mello; he simply trusted himself to know what Mello would and wouldn't buy.

One day, he would have to come to terms with everyone, he knew that one day his antics would be questioned, by Mello, by Wammy, by Roger, hell one day Near himself would stop dancing around the subject and just ask.

One day, Mello would refuse to blindly follow orders and eat up everything that is given to him.

_But not today, Batman. _

But it would happen. Eventually and soon. And it wouldn't mean that everyone would spontaneously turn on him, it would simply mean that the privilege of the big-time jerk he had enjoyed so far would end.

It began crumbling the day he met Light, and it continued crumbling, and it was falling apart right before his eyes, and L resisted the change, but the closest to any personal closure that he ever got was the idea of sitting back and watching and accepting whatever was to come.

And L wondered if Mello figured out that whatever was to happen here, in Tsuwano, and further on, L would let happen.

But it felt close.

However it all would end, it felt close. Whatever he deserved, it would be his, and he would sure as hell fight for it, but however the fight ended, he would accept it. And there would be no going back after Light if Light simply didn't show up, or managed to get away again, or anything.

Love was worth fighting for if it was worth fighting for.

Was it happiness he was fighting for?

Wherever he would take Light, Light would hate him for it, and try to keep playing right through his loss. He would resist L's every advance; there would be no way Light would settle for anything but L's loving head, severed and possibly even impaled on top of a Christmas tree, and since that would never happen, Light will always be miserable with L.

Was happiness so one-sided?

No wonder Light wanted it.

If this was it though, than L had nothing to lose, because if he had happiness, it wasn't anything like that.

---

"L, there are eight thousand people in this town."

"Yes."

"Want to explain to me _how eight thousand fake L cards_ managed to make it to doorsteps of all of these people?"

"A very heavy bribe to the local post office."

"Eight thousand L cards!"

"They were inside of an Ikea flyer."

"Eight thousand!"

"That is what follows seven thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine."

"Are you trying to get us killed!?"

L crushed his jaws hard around a lollipop and chewed down the sweet melting mass as a car passed between the frame of a stolen TV.

This town had a very good strategic advantage: one highway in, one highway out, three roads to detour.

Five live feed cameras on five pine trees.

Seven TVs.

Now though, the monitors were more for sight-seeing than anything else, since Light entered the town about an hour before the thick Ikea catalogues got distrusted.

The 6th camera was on the hotel clerk.

"You aimed that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I aimed it perfectly." The camera was focused on the clerk and the reception desk, and not on the vacant visitor spot.

The woman was frightened.

The whole town was frightened.

The radio public service that started broadcasting 'lock all doors and windows' earlier that morning was frightening.

The old and small town was a town where the most that happened within the year was the preacher's affair and some runaway children, the oppression was high with gossip and daily life was low on variation. It was a bowl. A closed bowl. Whatever happened here was _trapped_ by the curved slopes of the bowl.

The old clerk reported suspicious homosexuals staying in her hotel to the police about six times already.

They didn't come to investigate, yet. Police radios were going off everywhere from alleged psychopaths being administered by the local hospitals to reports suspicious cabbage rolls allegedly stuffed with explosives.

The police force in Tsuwano was too small to handle anything even close to eight thousand people simply _panicking_.

And the beautiful thing was, L had Light trapped in this bowl with fake business cards spilling out of it.

The only way out of town now, without being noticed, was hiking though the vast and thick forests. There were bears in those forests. L wouldn't dare, Light wouldn't even think about it.

And checkposts with officers searching every car coming in or out of the panicking town is a problem if you are wanted by NPA on charges of premeditated murder of your boyfriend, illegal cooperation with unauthorized police forces, and skipping bail. In other words, in a complete town lockdown, if you are Light Yagami, you are-

"He's screwed," said Mello. "So are we. But then, he's screwed, so it's all good."

"Mello calls it 'good' when, if caught, we are very dead?"

Mello was about to reply when the monitor L was watching got serious movement. Muted, there didn't appear to be a cause for the female clerk to be startled, but seconds later she rushed to the phone the camera was specifically aimed to, and picked it up.

'_-yes officer,'_ said a phone-listening device resting on the floor next to L, _'yes, oh thank you for getting back to me, goodness I must have reported them so many times, yo-'_

'_Ma'am, a physical description of the suspicious characters would be helpful; we are short on men-'_

Mello gasped, bit his bottom lip, giggled and started clapping as soon as he heard the 'officer's' sleek and honey voice.

L grinned too, but smacked Mello to keep it down so he could hear.

'_Short on men?! But you must come, they could have planted bombs in that room of theirs, God only knows what they did in there last night-'_

'_Is there any reason to suspect explosives in your premises? Ma'am, have you seen or heard anything? What do the suspects look like?'_

'_No, they have the sign on, I can't disturb them when they have the sign on-'_

'_What sign, ma'am? And their descriptions-'_

'_Do-not-disturb sign, anyway they're real suspicious characters, you should get down here and see for yourself! Evil glittered in their eyes, I swear-'_

'_Alright ma'am, I still need those physical descriptions. We have suspects on file right here, and if they come to even close of a match, I will come right down there to you, ma'am.'_

Mello giggled and hid his face in his hands to suppress tiny snorts, giggles and squealing.

Squealing.

L tried not to judge.

'_Well, the most homosexual one is with a scar, said he was on some kind of God's mission, something to do with travel... a crusade, yes! That's exactly what he said, 'a crusade against people-''_

'_A scar? Was in a severe _burn_ scar? Did he have blonde hair, ma'am?'_

"That is very unprofessional manner of questioning, _officer_," L noted though a grin that grew wider and wider. This was amusing, he had to admit.

'_Why yes, yes, a burn scar! A scar you would get from setting babies on fire, an evil scar, and heaven forbid that blonde hair! Leather, he was wearing leather I tell you, like a, like a, - a prostitute..!'_

'_Ah-huh, right. And his companion, ma'am? American, artificially dyed hair, orange goggles, leather steel-toe boots, very young, looked kind of like… well, one of those poor boys possessed by computers?'_

'_Oh no, nothing like that! The second homosexual was simply terrifying! Large, bulging and blood-thirsty demon eyes! As black as his hair! Looked like he lived in a cave, a hell's cave, came straight from hell, I tell you, to kill us all! His clothes were so old and so carefully washed, he must have bleached them from all the babies' blood-'_

"Oh snap!" Mello stopped sitting on the floor next to L in favor of gripping L's shoulder and giggling into it hysterically.

L didn't let tiny chuckles escape his own throat until the woman on the phone realized the silence on the other side had been too long.

The 'officer' had hung up on her.

"Heheheee, L, oh L if only all common cops had our descriptions and knew _exactly_ what to ask for, when and where, oh god we'd be so dead- heheHAHAHA!"

"Alright Mello, stop - stop laughing. I admit this is funny-"

"Funny? Haha, this's fucking hilarious! Dude! What'd you figure, now that he knows you're alive an' all, he's having a seizure, or realizing how screwed his is, or crying or-?"

"Mello, enough. Go take a cold shower in the babies' blood, and come back when you are ready. I do not appreciate _my_ officer Raito Yagami-kun being mocked."

Mello started laughing even harder.

"Y-you figure, he'd come down to the hotel?" Mello managed after he calmed down enough to make logical assertions.

"I don't think so. Still, we will wait for an hour before torching it. The clerk is dangerous if she really talks to someone."

All six 911 calls were received and processed by Mello personally. All Light did was call all local inns and rentals and searched for a freaked-out reaction.

Now... oh, how much would L give just to see his face, see his horrified reaction when the semi-harmless Matt he'd been expecting in Tsuwano is no-longer an issue, but L personally had come back from hell to haunt him.

How did L do it?

Was he alive all along, did he hide out somewhere until the storm passed, leaving Light all alone to deal with the consequences and penalties of their little game?

Did he wait for Light to make his move just so that he could spite him and make a move of his own?

L was alive, alive for fuck's sake. What about the revenge, the games, Mello, the hunting, the playing, the stupid, stupid violin?

Was Light... happy that L was alive?

Finding out second-hand from a hotel clerk that a man Light had given up his _life_ for to kill was alive? Was it happy news?

There was no walking out of this, Light knew it, he gave up his life, whatever was left of it that L hadn't destroyed or taken away from him at that point, to finish everything.

And now...

He was back where he started.

It hurt. And yet it was...

...satisfying.

L was alive.

L would see him again, be with him, touch him, and Light would hate every second of it and yet he would be with... with L. L could lose to him again.

Stability.

Was stability a consolation prize?

Did Light lose?

Did they _both_ lose?

Light drove though the empty streets as fast as he could without arousing any suspicion in the panicking, dying dump; the stolen car was soaked in sweat and cigarette smoke, the deteriorating upholstery was itchy and the flapping tarp covering the window light broke in through were all reminders of death. Dying. Tiredness.

The town was tired.

So was Light.

He parked the police cruiser in the front, straightened his black tie and black dress shirt, and walked right into the hotel through the front door.

"Hello ma'am, I am officer-trainee Suzuki with the local PD, I have received a report of persons of interest, what room are they staying in ma'am?"

"Can I see some ID?" the woman asked, eyeing him.

Light flashed a stolen badge at her as well as showed the gun on his belt, and topped it off with a fake safety-smile he flashed to the officer he took the car, badge and gun from earlier. The woman felt at ease right away.

"Room 202, thank you for coming offi-"

---

"Okay, so he actually went-HOLY SHIT!"

L said nothing, he just sat back and watched the clerk's _brains_ glide down the wall behind her, slowly, and a pool of blood expanded into a black halo around her slumped head on the shiny surface of the front counter. Face down, L couldn't see a large hole with skull pieces crushed inward from a point-blank shot in the left eye/nose area, but he knew exactly where the sloppy shot connected and how much blood would tackle down the counter surface from the dead woman's defaced head within minutes.

"'Kay, not cool, that thing'd better have a silencer!" Mello said in outrage, and L said nothing.

L didn't _think_ anything, either. His mouth didn't hang open, on the contrary his lips were pressed firmly together without any expression.

As he watched the tiny bloody pieces glide down the wall, blood soak into the scattered hair, and Light walk out of the TV frame towards the hallway with doors to hotel rooms, L wondered briefly just what the hell happened.

And then he screamed.

He screamed without words, it was a cry, a cry to whatever god was up there to explain what the _fuck_ just went on in that TV.

In his rage, he picked up an ashtray Matt used when he came to the cabin with Mello, and threw it into the television screen so hard that the round, shaped, thick glass cracked the plastic plasma screen and the image of the dead woman _Light just shot in cold blood_ broke into pieces and,suddenly speckled with neon pixel dots, warped and leaked out.

L slapped his fist against the ancient wooden drawer-table, grabbed the little silver-white phone and pushed the speed-dial button so hard the phone keys got lodged inside and didn't come out.

The phone rang once, twice, and when Light entered the room 202 on another plastic monitor, it was on its sixth ring. Light saw the phone's double on the bed and picked it up on the eighth.

"What the _fuck_ was that?!" L roared into the phone, still crushing the thing in his fist and against his ear without Light getting to say a hello.

On the little monitor, Light froze and stayed still until L screamed "WELL?!" into the other end.

Then Light slowly sat down on the bed he found the phone on, and hell if L was there, he'd strangle the little son of a bitch.

"Hi," Light said quietly, gently almost, bringing up the second hand to hold the phone with, as if afraid talking too loudly or holding the phone too recklessly would break the phone and with the phone, it will make L on the other end disappear, forever, again.

"Don't you 'hi' me you little-"

Little... what?

What did Light do so terrible that deserved to be strangled for?

_Kill someone, in cold blood. _

L was ready for this, L knew Light would kill people on his way to get to Mello, hell, Light indirectly killed those 'criminals' though a half-assed brainwashing scheme, L did all those things, too, logically there was nothing to be angry about, nothing to make him want to crush that stupid little neck between his hands and feel the life sip out of that bastard...

L came prepared for fuck's sake, emotionally L was always prepared to react to anything like a rock would react, anything; than what the hell was he so angry about?

He was furious, livid.

Instead of saying anything on the subject, or even close to the context, Light tried to say something, and stopped himself a few times before the perfect words came out.

"Where have you been?" he whispered carefully.

L was about to insult from afar when Mello stole the phone away from L with ridiculous precision. L was about to grab the blonde and kick him to hell and up again, but Mello met his angry gaze and L looked into the frightened dark green eyes for a long moment before letting all tense muscles go loose.

L realized he was not capable of making decisions.

So he stepped away, and put Mello between himself and Light.

"Listen kid, I'm Mello by the way, nice to meet you, hi, you need to get the fuck out of there _now_, you just shot someone in broad daylight without a silencer, you're fucked. Keep the phone, talk to L later. Go downstairs to the basement, the fire-door to the basement is unlocked. Lose the tie, put it in your pocket; roll up your sleeves, look like some kid they won't remember. Go there, straight through the heating room, the room is shared, you'll get out at the stationary store next door. Ninja though, buy some Sharpies, walk out. Get as far away as you can. Then hide."

"Call me back in an hour," said Light and hung up, walking out of the monitor view and L's sight as he talked.

* * *

_-two months ago-_

King1: I quit.

King2: What?

King1: I don't feel like updating anymore, my fics, my art, my posts, my life, etc., etc., etc., emoemoemoemo.

King2: Oh. Okay.

King1: What. That's all the sympathy I get? You asshat. Well, you know what? I've done up to the end of Happiness, I'll publish that, then I'll quit.

King2: Nope. You aren't publishing anything 'till you snap the fuck out of it.

King1: But but but this and that and that and this—

_-two months later-_

**A/N: I LOVE MY STORY AND MY READERS AND I FEEL VERY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY. :D**

L: It happens to her. She just gives up once in a while. On everything. She goes on Gaia hiatus, she closes up her DA, she gives up on school, and overall she kind of ignores everyone. Trouble is, she won't medicate.

Mello: and a withdrawal later…

A/N: WHAT THEY MEAN TO SAY IS, THIS CHAPTER WAS A MESS SO I WAS FIXING IT. THIS IS CORRECT. AGREE.

Light: I object.

A/N: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO'S BEEN PATIENT WITH ME. THANKS SHOUTOUTS GO TO **DrRabbit, Your Alien, jarnee337, Shaniachan, dragon_fly126, ellan54, Lizzie, Sovoyita, IsobelAnis, happyalien, Dacara, fluffy2044, goldentongue, Oveja Negra, Hime, incandescentglow, angellovedark, Katsheswims, rain angst, s3v3n-d3ad1135, My Favorite Crooked Smile, Dlack-Dranzer-1119, bubblepop, Nardaviel, ArtistofLight, Anna Marie Lynn, lil joker, Zemar, isamu-michi, Dark Green Poop, Rin5o, Emery Board, Jetta, Not Yet Knowing, Altair 718, fouloldron, Chou ni Natte, Purple Glass, .,, AngelToes, Eadha Ohn, JediMasterWithPen, SunnydayinPallet, amarinta453, Huehuetechi, White Hair is Hawt & U know It, MisoraIsBitchin, Uchiha-on-Crack, Wicked Cheshire, YourBestFriend4, Yami-noHikari-7, yuis **and** Yolanda! **

I had the 'I'm dropping this, sorry everyone!' chapter-note ready, and just when I was about to post it, like, a review came in. I love you guys. Don't worry anymore. I'm done. Donedonedonedone. All the remaining chapters are done. They just need to be expanded, but it's kinda done. I'm happy.

Loveyouloveyouloveyou,

_PRESS THE MAGIC BUTTON IF YOU'RE HAPPY._

_WAIT A MINUTE. YOU AREN'T HAPPY._

_LIGHT JUST DID SOMETHING VERY BAD, AND L ACTUALLY WANTS TO KILL LIGHT ENOUGH TO GIVE UP ALL CONTROL TO MELLO 'CAUSE THEN HE'LL ACTUALLY KILL LIGHT. _

_THIS IS BAD._

_UH-OH. TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT._

_HERE._

l

l

l

V


	23. Happiness, pt 3

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I hate my job, I hate my job, I hate my job, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH23**

**Happiness – pt.3**

"It's been an hour, Mello."

L said the words, he was pretty sure he said them but he didn't remember thinking about it, or worrying about it being an hour, or thinking about anything at all.

He just sat there, where Mello put him, on the bed, with his legs down to the floor and arms slumped on the sides for the whole hour, and the pose would be normal for anyone who was used to sitting normally, but for L it should've gotten uncomfortable fifty-nine minutes ago.

He didn't recall really making an effort to move.

Mello jumped lightly, and gave L a sideways glance before focusing on the police-radio listener and some maps.

"It's okay," he said evenly, "it's only been forty minutes."

"I do not like Mello's voice."

L _didn't_ like Mello's voice. It was too even. Too un-aggressive, and considering it was Mello, the notion of the blonde being calm was an odd one in itself.

Mello's voice was... cautious. A voice every hostage-negotiator L had the pleasure speaking to used. Even. Solid. Careful not to provoke, careful not to say anything that would arouse internal provocation. Careful to freeze time and with time, to freeze the situation before it had a chance to escalate.

Mello was afraid of L.

Sometimes, when L was stressed, he had whiskey, and that made him lose it and scare Mello out of his bones. Sometimes L shouted at Mello when the blonde managed to screw up so much that it deserved scaring him into never doing that something stupid ever again.

And then there was forty minutes ago.

L knew himself, and L knew that Mello knew very well that if L had an anger fit, Mello was supposed to run, and run fast.

Mello wasn't running.

Mello's direct order was to run away whenever he felt even in slightest danger around L.

"You aren't following orders, either," L said absently.

"Listen L, drop it, okay? Talk to me. What happened there?"

"I got angry. He killed somebody."

"Well I don't know what you expected from him, but honestly, after all that you've put him through, I can't believe you were expecting a holy virgin in a white nightgown."

"He is a _child_, Mello. He grew up in safety, his mind... Light wouldn't dare to kill. Murdering people via proxy is a lot easier than doing it with your own hands, he... he can't. He just can't, he's a coward, he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger on a person. His mind would not be capable of handling something like that."

Mello looked at him then with sympathy and... pity.

Why pity?

"L, people change. I'm sorry, but I think you know you pushed him so far he had no choice but to adapt. He... you have to be prepared that whatever you get may not be Light."

L knew that.

L knew that, and damn it if he had a heart to ache over it, it would, but L had no heart, and instead the continence hung over him. A guilty one. L had seen deterioration in Light's beautiful pure mind when he was about to whisk him away from the greedy hands of NPA back at the abandoned warehouse with necked wall skeletons and bad graffiti.

It seemed that he had forgotten, it had been over four months since then.

Four months pass quickly if you sleep right though them, but if... Light was awake, strapped to a hospital bed, awake for every minute of those four months, free to think, and every evil, dark thought he had acted like rust, and it rusted his mind, rusted away until...

"Then what is left of him?"

"I don't know. Will you still want him if he's not what you've expected?"

L nodded.

Light was Light.

"Okay. Okay. Then sit back and trust me, okay? I'll get things done, and when we're outta here... you need like, therapy. Big-time."

L didn't find that funny.

"Or maybe, like marriage counseling," Mello winked.

That one worked.

L nodded and continued sitting and staring into space, wondering wistfully what the future would bring. Wondering, and just that: not shaping his own future or even attempting to predict it, but just sitting and imagining how whatever would happen, L would simply go along with it.

Daydreaming?

Dreaming.

Sleeping.

**

* * *

**

Fine, thin trees, charred by the mid-summer sun stood like thin, dry pillars with exhausted yellowing leaves impaled near their low crowns. The light, artificial forest of fairly young vegetation rared between the old stumps and planted grass, also dry, yellow and charred, with brown patches where the skin of the ground was directly exposed to the holy sunrays.

Even at dawn, when the heat went down significantly since the scorching afternoon, it was hot still, so hot that Light's black dressshirt with rolled up sleeves and nothing underneath was slightly sweaty on his back and threatened to cling should he not stop wondering aimlessly in the sun.

The chapel of Saint Maria was there, somewhere, not too far, and Light wouldn't go into it throughout the better half of the day even if there wasn't a primitive chain and lock around the doors that would be ridiculously easily to pick. Because the chapel itself was primitive.

If that lock had been an alarm lock, or even had a combo, Light would do it because it would be at least closer to home in some way, but he wouldn't touch it because it opened with a very simple two-pronged key.

In this old, deteriorating world, so close to nature and so far away from human things that the artificial forest and man-planted grass seemed closer to home than anything, Light would have really appreciated the police cruiser he had to leave in a ditch, or the laptop that needed its batteries conserved, or anything at all that was within his space of comfort: things that required intelligence. Cities that had as many variables as people in them. Technology.

This was primitive, he hated it the first time around, and the would have never paid it a second visit if it wasn't to get to the other L.

The other L, or how fucking stupid was he, to go after the second L when the first one was alive and well, and everything changed so fast he needed... he needed something, something solid, something to prove everything that was going on was as real as the crispy tree bark or the dried grass.

When the other L... well, _Mello _finally showed up, the little awkward meeting was awkward for exactly six seconds.

He was the man Light paid barely any mind to when he was around him for the few minutes they were around eachother before Mello was taken in for questioning as a witness.

Their brief encounter quick and awkward, and Mello's shorter stature, small, pointy nose and honey-mustard hair with just enough volume to make him look like a very beautiful girl made it easy for Light to simply pass him up, and Mello wasn't much of a talker either. Back then, Mello seemed to be only interested in the free coffee and donuts, and making Matsuda squirm at unprovoked sexual advances, all within a few minutes.

That was then, and the most disturbing thing about it all, as much to Matsuda and Soichiro as it was to Light was that Mello was no man at all.

Mello was a boy.

It made better sense when Matt came around, and Light really haven't thought too much about the fact, but Mello's age wasn't too hard to pin down. He was at the dawn of his sweet 16.

And to think that a horrible burn scar over the upper third of the side of his face was as permanent as the small, pointy nose or dark green eyes was disturbing of a thought. Mello was beautiful, and still this was a blemish he wouldn't be able to hide, ever.

The hair, shredded, spicy, but still long matched the permanent reminder of the warehouse disaster perfectly, and Light wondered briefly if the blonde kept up the haircut purposely.

Briefly only, of course because the digression and recognition happened all within the six seconds Light turned around and saw Mello before the boy punched him in the rubs with a closed fist and sent him backwards, but not before his foot was yanked from under him.

Light half-expected it to be a weird capoeira, but it was just a punch and a kick.

Light recoiled and went for the pretty face, but then...

If he had a reason to let tears sip out of the corners of his eyes for any reason, this was the best one, ever. He felt to his kneecaps and folded into himself.

Mello shoved Light's stolen police gun into the back of his pants half-smugly.

"Grab, twist an' pull. Self-defense 101."

Light told Mello exactly what he should go and do with himself.

"I'll give ya a few minutes, 'cause I'm generous," said Mello now coolly, while searching Light for anything else dangerous or sharp, "just to let ya know, this is totally not my idea. You're a prick, and in case you think I faked Ellie on the phone back there, I'd've shot you in the balls as soon as I saw you if he'd tell me he'd kill me if I did that."

Mello sure had a way with words. Light said nothing.

"Matty told me you're like speech-impaired or somethin', but it don't fly with me. If you don't talk, I get pissed, 'cause I like talking. So fucking talk."

"Nice weather."

Pain gradually subsided; it wasn't like it paralyzed him. It was just that Light wanted this to go smoothly, so he did nothing, despite the urge to hit that smug dollface. Preferably with a car.

Mello finally crouched four feet away from him. Light stared at him, and to say Mello wasn't influenced by Light's glare in the slightest was an understatement. Mello's features were cool and anxious; his lips were pressed together and it was obvious he didn't like _this_, whatever _this_ was. He looked like a deer, a scared deer ready to bolt the hell away, and yet tied down, protecting something.

Light just looked back, waiting for the whole ordeal to be over with just so that Mello would take him to L.

The blonde didn't look like he was in any hurry.

"Fine. Shoot."

"What?"

"Questions. You got 'em. Shoot."

Light had many, none that he really wanted to ask. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to do this, either. He just had no choice. Plans changed.

L was alive.

So he just ran to him.

He didn't care.

"Isn't the weather nice?" he said in his friendliest tone.

Mello frowned and threw a twig at him, and Light felt around for something and found some dry dirt, so he threw that back at Mello.

"Haha, fucker," said Mello when Light's aim barely scraped Mello's arm.

"Bitch," said Light.

Mello frowned, stared, got up and started walking away, and Light had no choice but to get up and bite down on his own tongue to gracefully trail the blonde without stumbling or doing the bear-walk.

Being sacked _hurt_.

He followed Mello to a rusty Volvo, and no sooner than he got in and slammed the door behind him that the car took off.

"Well, you seem trusting," said Light as he tried to buckle up the clearly broken seatbelt.

"Oh sugar, I'm not trusting. You're just _tamed_."

"Pardon?"

"You're smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds you, in your case, the dick you suck."

Stunned, Light's eyebrows shot up, but he held his tongue.

"That was uncalled for," he managed, without any insult back to Mello. The blonde was right; now was a very good of a time to shut up and swallow.

Mello's long and dark eyelashes lowered and he threw the sun shield down, though really not because of the sun.

"Listen, you. I've been civil about the whole thing with L, and I won't take it out on your sorry ass. First priority is to get the fuck outta here. We can, you can't, so shut up and do what you're told. Do something on your own, you'll be riding out in a body bag."

Light nodded.

"And you know what? Same goes for L, I'm fucking sick of this shit. He did that, and he did that, and now that one's sad 'cause the other one's sad and you two can go and fuck yourselves. Fucking marriage counseling you damn housewives, you hear me?"

"L?" Light said, not really sure what he meant to ask, trusting Mello would figure it out for him.

"Yup. L. He's a moron. Just like you. He's not in charge of this anymore, anyway. I am. So you do what I say."

"Right."

"Fucking Right-o, _Raito_. And stay away from him for the most part."

"He's... angry."

"Yeah. Big-time. He's actually, well-" Mello paused, pursed his lips and chose not to continue.

"He is what?"

"He's Robin. You know, from batman."

"He is _what_?" Light insisted.

"You thought he was dead, so you know what, you worry about the "he _IS_" part right now. Fuck off. I'm driving."

Light left Mello alone. L wouldn't kill him when he walked into where ever L was... would he? L would be there, and Light would walk in, stumble awkwardly actually because the initial shock of knowing L was alive and Light would actually see him, in flesh and blood, there, alive, alive, was still there, and part of the reason Light was compliant and unaggressive towards Mello contrary to what he came there to do was because once he heard L scream at him though a small white phone all those hours ago seemed like a dream. Was it real?

The nine phone calls of directions to cover his tracks, and the schedule of their meeting by that chapel all came from Mello. He heard L at the motel all those hours ago, in the early afternoon, and now it was dawn.

It felt like a lifetime.

They drove, they got out near an old apartment complex with crumpling exterior, they walked up the stairs to a corner apartment Light suspected belonged to neither L or Mello, and at the door, as Mello inserted the key into the rusty lock and turned it, slowly, Light thought he saw L's slouched figure in a black SWAT getup, with the bullet-proof west wide open, tiny and totally unfit to be wearing clothes so important and heavy, his airplane-dried hair spiking at one side, his wide, large and black eyes, all, to the tiniest detail exactly the way Light had seen him last.

And then he saw the door, opening slowly, and finally, he would see L, the real one, in his actual clothes whatever they may be, crouching on a chair, or standing, or aiming a gun at him, or coming from behind and punching him at the back of the head, or taking him by the shins and screaming at him or...

The dark hallway, cluttered with old things that clearly didn't belong to L or Mello, was empty.

Mello made a gesture for Light to go in, but Light wouldn't. The blonde grunted something, pushed past Light, and Light dared to step inside only after Mello.

It was dark, dim, empty, completely alien and cluttered, stale, old, with wallpaper and boxes and slippers. The place was old and cramped, small and the kitchen door was wide open. No one there. Not in the bedroom probably, either-

"Oh for the sake of Christ, stop looking like a lost puppy, it's disturbing. He's there." Light's gaze followed the direction of Mello's general shrug, but nothing there perked his interest. Mello rolled his eyes, grabbed him by the forearm and pulled towards the open door of the bedroom.

There was barely enough space for the bed, and-

_Oh. _

"Mental breakdown. Fell asleep. Or fainted. You never know with him."

_Oh wow. _

Curled up in a tight ball with his pale face resting against his wrist, L slept peacefully. Light approached him, slowly, trying to make as little nose as he could with his socked feet against the dusty carped.

He didn't know why he had to be quiet, L wouldn't wake up anyway since the man on the bed was dead according to logic in all worlds, and still the sight of Ryuzaki – L with his large, bulging eyes finally shut was something to behold.

The man looked peaceful when he exhaled the dead breaths that ruffled the black strands of hair and expanded his chest.

Light felt those delicate breaths on his face before he realized he was bowing down to get a better look at the dead man.

A loose hair rested on L's nose, and the chapped lips that looked torn and bitten were slightly open and light could see the whites of L's front teeth.

Light had never seen L sleep.

But if the sleeping body was actually sleeping and not dead, it implied that L could and would wake up. Light didn't really knew if he wanted L do open his eyes ever again or not, but he knew for certain that it would make him feel safer if the men in the bed turned out to be dead.

"Well this is awkward!" Mello practically shouted behind him, making Light jump.

The large eyes snapped open impossibly wide, even for L.

But they were L's pitch-black eyes that matched his hair perfectly.

This was L.

"I was not sleeping," was the first thing the man declared, still staring dead ahead at the first thing he saw, somewhere to the left of Light.

This was L's monotone and sharp voice as well.

"I was gonna tell you that I, um.," shouted Mello again, probably to stir the dead awake if his first try wasn't enough, "…I gotta go. Over there. Right now. Yeah. Bye."

He was gone before Light began to worry about anything Mello did.

Large, cold and unfocused black eyes met his and Light felt his mouth hang slightly open and his lips tremble. Ryuzaki... no, not Ryuzaki's, L's, _oh god L's_ magnificent black eyes were staring right into his own, expressionless take mild annoyance, and hell if Light's heart didn't skip a beat and breath didn't freeze in his lungs...

Dead.

Ghost, maybe not even that... a demon. Something haunting, something that went dead and tore, clawed and bit its way up from hell. L was a dead, and whatever died once should stay dead, or else it sucked life, breath and heartbeats away from anyone near it.

Light's skin froze and hands began trembling despite the evening heat, and if it wasn't for an urge to laugh, Light would have thought he died and went to hell, and hell was fiery and frozen all at the same time.

His eyes danced around the large eyes, sideways along a stray lock of hair and scanned the black mop to find an edge of an ear perking out of the endless haystack of pitch black hair.

L.

There.

Sitting on a bed and looking particularly pissed off.

All these months after Light's mind buried him.

It was ridiculous.

And yet the edge of the ear told him otherwise, so did a shrug that brought Light's attention back to the face of the man whose skin had long since separated from his bones and the flesh underneath rotted and maggots feasted on it and the large black eyeballs that were staring intensely back at Light leaked out and what should be looking back at him were empty sockets.

Voice he heard over the phone had almost no gravity.

This however, was as heavy as lead.

And if this was real and Light's mind still turned around the same axis it did before he tiptoed to this bed, the dead man on the bed would turn angry very soon.

He did.

Large pupils halved as the eyelids closed half-way and the pale lips thinned in the most vicious snarl Light had ever seen.

In response, Light felt his own teeth grind and his body withdrew from L's personal space.

It came anyway.

L reached out and slapped him across the face hard enough for Light to feel no pain after a few seconds after impact until the hot tingling kicked in and his cheek burned.

Halfway through reaching to pat the fresh bruise with his hand, Light drew back and slapped L back, just as hard, and his own palm tingled like a carpet burn when L's face turned with the impact.

As if refusing to admit the injury, neither nursed the bruised flesh. It was ridiculous really, and with each second the plastic wall-clock ticked away Light's desire to replace the soft cushion of his palm with a fist on L's face grew, and if L's nasty stare was anything to do by, the man in front of him wanted nothing more than to kick Light in the face.

This was unreal and at the same time their staring contest was painfully typical of them, and then something changed.

Light was surprised how easy it was to read the face of the man in front of him; L was never easy to figure out or to understand, and yet here was L, a demon so fresh out of hell that the soles of his feet were still covered in black ash, as human as Light had ever seen him, changing his mind, contemplating something, moving and slipping out of bed.

Torn between staying still for the sake of keeping his stare as intimidating as possible, and darting for the door the hell out of there, Light watched the smooth, pale face. The anger still lingered in the folds at the corners of L's eyes and the intimidating thin lips were still pressed against eachother, but L was genuinely cautions, curious almost.

Light stayed still, the black soles of L's feet quietly touched the ground and the man stood up at his full height so far into Light's personal space, it felt like something private was violated.

Like a Cerberus from hell, L circled halfway around him. Light had no choice but to turn his body around as L moved, and once L stopped, Light was directly between him and the bed.

It wasn't that hard to figure out what L ultimately wanted.

But then, the thin lips released, and a corner of L's moth tugged upward. His chin tipped up, and despite being on the exact same eyelevel as Light, the smug, triumphant expression somehow towered a foot higher.

Light immediately felt like a thing.

And victoriously, L looked down at him as if he was a thing he just won.

L looked pleased, and Light felt anything but.

"Happy?" Light hissed.

He could have said anything, really, but he chose what came to mind first.

The triumphant smirk subsided into a much gentler one.

"Not really," L hissed back, "are you happy?"

"No."

Light sighed and sat back down at the edge of the creaky bed. L still stood over him when he asked weakly, "so where does this leave us?"

Light didn't know.

"I do not know about you... Light – " the hairs stood up at the back of Light's neck. He heard the man above him say that to his face before, one time, and that got him shot, " – but I do not even know what I want from you anymore."

"I know what I want."

"My head."

"Very much."

L sighed and sat next to Light, but this time a safe foot away, and his feet were on the ground instead of the usual bird perch Light was used to seeing.

Was everything Light knew about this man a façade?

But...

This was strangely civil.

This was a negotiation, Light realized.

"I would like to talk about this," L began.

"Talk?" a hoarse laugh, "it's a little late for talking, don't you think, L?"

"You walked in here on free will. I think you would like to talk also."

"Fine. Start with a detailed description of hell. How's the weather there?"

"I am not angry you very nearly succeeded in killing me Light, though I'm sure you must be furious."

Furious?

Furious Light spent a third of a year antagonizing himself for not giving L a change to admit his defeat? Oh, Light was livid.

Not a scratch.

The resolve to shoot L changed Light to the point where once in a while he would wake up and realize the thoughts he had were the thoughts of somebody else, anyone but him. But he could do nothing, so he stood back and watched as the story unfolded though his very own eyes, and he had no desire to stop himself, but to push forward.

To go on.

And the inner turmoil and the loss of self-awareness and his own spirit were all for one sake: to rid the world of something that was long overdue for its coffin.

This man.

And to find so much change within himself and none in the man he changed so much for was hopeless.

So much effort, and not even a dent.

"Thank you," said L somewhere outside of Light's collapsing state of consciousness, "for the violin."

"Thanks for the game."

"Don't go nasty on me now, Light. It's almost over. Let it rest."

"Over, huh?"

"Alright," L sighed sharply and finally pulled his legs to his chest and hugged his knees, "I admit defeat. You fooled me, you played me like a fool. I ate up every lie of that brilliant act, I believed and trusted you right until I felt that bullet in my chest, and all while you were luring me into hopelessly falling in love with you, you read my lies and figured me out. You win. You took the great L down. Are you happier now that you heard this from me?"

"I would be a lot happier if you wrote that on your gravestone."

"You get what you get. Don't complain about the prize."

Prize.

This wasn't the full prize.

Or rather, price, but it didn't matter at this point. Without giving any kind of notice by looking hostile in the least, Light drew back a fist, and one swift punch to the face that felt so good in Light's lower gut sent L toppling to the floor. Before the man could even hit the ground fully, Light tried to kick him while he was down.

A quick glimpse at L's cat-like stance on the floor, glaring up at him though a curtain of black bangs dangerously with a thin stream of blood tickling down his lip from what Light hoped was at least a broken nose, and with his hands restrained behind his back, Light was wrestled onto the bed face-first, harshly.

The sharp fingernails digging into his wrists felt delicious. All the sexual tension, everything he felt gnaw though his insides and never quite managing to get out jolted throughout his body, sparkling, pleasurable, stiff and warm.

He kicked, tore and trashed until finally L straddled him from behind. In the scuffle, the threads holding a few of his buttons broke and the warm summer air tickled his bare shoulder as the rough fabric of the bed scratched his collarbone.

The edge of his shirt, no longer tucked in his pants touched his forearm when he pulled his own arm painfully, trying to break free. It hurt, and the pain was so good.

"God, Ryuzaki!" he half-screamed when he heard the man above him pant. He felt his own arousal hot against his leg, but L seemed to be sitting as good as on top of his ass quite comfortably.

This wasn't working, the sweet pain in his arms was dulling away, and Light trashed as much as he possibly could to make it come back, but L seemed only interested in restraining him.

"Light, stop this right now, what are you doing?"

"Fuck... fuck it, you hypocritical bastard! That bitch whose brains I blew out got you angry, huh? Well, wait 'till you see what else I can... do, you son of a-"

It worked, God did it feel good when L, _his_ L, grabbed him by the hair and smothered him into the mattress. Scarce air burned in his lungs, but his erection jolted at the stinging pleasure.

It felt so good.

If _felt_.

L was shouting something angrily somewhere above him, and Light couldn't really see him, and that alone added so much heat to his body.

He had little space to move his head and it was a little disappointing to feel the air return to his lungs in haste gasps, and unconsciously he shouted back before he thought it through.

"God L..! F-fuck me now, you s-"

Skin nearly separated from his skull when he was yanked to turn around and his body flattened against L's. Hot, metallic lips saturated with blood forced his jaws open and nearly sucked his mouth out.

Hands, L's wonderful, cold hands tore at his clothes roughly and glided along his exposed, lower belly.

It wasn't harsh enough, there was almost no pain, so Light kneed L in the stomach, earning himself a hard squeeze on the calf.

"Why are you - you fighting?" L panted against his mouth, hissing while sucking the skin around it and nearly biting his way down Light's throat.

Light wanted him to bite, and he trashed some more until his wrists were pinned above his head and L hovered over him, frowning.

Everything stopped; the only delicious stiffness remaining was the discomfort of his weeping erection, constricted by his pants they never got around to taking off.

"Why do you want me to hurt you?"

Light said nothing, just glared at L, hoping the cruel stare alone would provoke the man to continue.

"Why do you want me to _hurt you_?" L shook him.

"Don't look at me like that! Just get on with it!"

There was a dull glimmer in L's completely black eyes; not a literal one, but Light only had to imagine it because the rest of L's face was tense in thought.

"Just hit me or fuck me, but stop staring at me!"

After a short mental debate, L nodded, and Light hoped L would go on like he did moments ago. He would even try to settle on L's usual roughness, which was minimal to begin with. Light would just refuse to cooperate too much, and things would work out for both of them.

And then the bastard released his wrists and softly pecked his lips, slipped a hand under his neck and pulled him up lightly to shrug off his pants.

Cool hands danced all over his body, caressed the skin of his naked thighs and stroked his erection, and Light had to screw his eyes shut and bite his tongue in order not to beg L to scratch and bruise the skin instead.

The pressure in his groin was insane, and a few light strokes weren't going to do it. Light squeezed the cool body between his legs.

"Light," hell, even L's voice sounded sweet and fucking _gentle, _"you're mine."

"Show me!" he barked, unable to keep it in when L squeezed his lower cheek and rubbed a cool finger near his entrance.

L only breathed on the wet skin of his neck and kept verbally gratifying himself, "mine. All mine, finally..."

Realizing his wrists were loose, Light forced his hand between their bodies, reached down under his erection, pushed L's hand out of the way and forced two dry finders inside himself.

The immediate hiss that followed only added to the searing jolt of painful pleasure inside of his passage. God, if L didn't grab his wrist and stop him, he would have been screaming in self-inflicted pleasure.

"Don't hurt yourself," said L, panting already because the sight of Light twisting between the sheets must have done a little something for him.

"Do it for me?" Light licked his lips.

"We will figure out what is going on with you later. Just indulge for now, you clearly missed this."

L's finger was dry at least, and it hurt just enough for Light to arch his back and bite his lip. It entered him slowly just as another hand fisted his pulsating member snugly.

"God yesss," he hissed as L reached inside with another finger and hit his prostate.

Saliva dripped down his chin and he grinded his teeth in silent screams. Sweat coated his exposed skin and pooled in his bellybutton. He held onto L like a last lifeline to his sanity as the man who was dead whispered soothing words and kissed his face and shoulders.

Light came without as much as needing L to fill him out on the inside. Hot semen coated his things and mixed with sweat, and L didn't even give him time to come off the shallow orgasm before pulling Light's legs around his waist and pushing in, slick with nothing but sweat.

Dry and painful penetration made Light's body begin sending blood to his lower regions again; his member didn't even have time to soften up, and his erection was back, threatening to burst in L's talented fingers.

It wasn't as if L was pacing himself, either.

In, out, it burned and felt so good Light screamed and clawed at L's back. Sweat made wet noises between their hot, sleek bodies, and L's haphazard thrusting soon became a way for him to ride out his orgasm as he spilled warm semen inside.

The sex was short-lived when Light finally came a minute after L pulled out of him.

He was still panting and digging fingernails into the bony back when L shrugged out of his desperate grasp to sit up on Light's side and hug his nude legs.

Between the sheets, stark-naked and curled up, L looked like an overgrown child, but his face was anything but.

Light tilted his head sideways to get a better look him; L's eyes were narrow, one thing Light had seen too much of in one day, lazy and satisfied. The dark bags under his eyes made him look tired, but the tiniest tug at the corners of L's lips suggested this whole relaxed façade was because L was admiring Light's toned, sweaty and completely exposed body as the stains of semen caked around his lower stomach and thighs.

Light honestly missed the cool touches, the sandpaper kissed and the admiring stare L would ravish him with after every time they did this.

And then Light laughed.

He laughed long and hard, he laughed until his throat itched and his laughter became hoarse.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Obviously, this isn't the end, but it's a hell of a spot to leave it on. Hot sex, ominous laughter. MasterCard.

L: MasterCard?

A/N: ... yeah, I got nothing to say today, other than to **THANK MY WONDERFUL SHINEY REVIEWERS WHOM I LOVE THAT REVIEWED AND ARE LISTED HERE: SunnydayinPallet, Sueona, merichuel, donatellolover, fluffy2044, DrRabbit, Anna Marie Lynn, IsobelAnis, My Favorite Crooked Smile, music-is-luv, Sovoyita, angellovedark, YourBestFriend4, Dark Green Poop, Altair 718, Not Yet Knowing, IHideInYourCloset, Nardaviel, fouloldron, In Which Under Your Bed, s3v3n-d34d1135, jarnee557, Black-Dranzer-1119, Koolneko22, Jetta, Docara, Huehuetecti, isamu-michi, Kyro259, Hispanic Tenshi, Purple Glass, Midori Heiwa, pixie-lyric, realityfling18, o0CheckMate0o, ssjRaina, Uchiha-on-Crack, Eminem, CharmGirl24 and Rooky Girl!**

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you I hate my job thank you thank you!

Oh! I'm doing NaNo. Obviously, on DeathNote. Watch out for something new by me. If you like DT, you would like _that_. I don't have a name for it. Yet.

Anyway.

Next Chapter: **Happiness – pt.4**, in which something is persistently wrong with Light, if you haven't noticed yet. Or that dark and ominous cloud hanging out over both of them. Hmm~

_Magic Button._

_Pressing it makes __**you and me**__ very happy. :D _

_ILU. _

l

l

l

V


	24. Happiness, pt 4

_**Disclaimer:** GET YOUR H1N1 SHOTS I AM NOT KIDDING YOU, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**III: Devil's Trill**

**CH24**

**Happiness – pt.4**

It was a nasty laughter, and L felt disgust tug at the corners of his lips.

As the young man before him laughed not only his heart, but his throat and lungs out as it seemed, L could only think of one thing to do to stop this, and that was reaching out and slapping the young man in the face.

He didn't.

He held back even as his sticky fingers curled into a half-fist around the sheets, even as his habits pushed him closer to the laughing, naked boy on the other side of the bed.

_Shut him up. _

_Or leave. _

L did neither, nor did he back away when he realized what Light was laughing at.

The scar.

L was suddenly more aware of the scar than he had ever been. The thick scar, fresh under the improperly healed surgical tissue, about an inch under another circular scar, slightly left of the center of his chest felt like a part of him that was not really a part of him at all.

The skin over the fake heart felt alien, and the plastic heart itself felt like Light's arm reached inside of his chest and ripped out the alien thing.

It was as if the thing was intended for Light's personal amusement, because the hoarse and hysteric laughter still came out as small hiccups when L found his hands around a sweaty throat.

And Light looked at him, from under him still somehow managing to look down at him, choking on air that didn't come as L squeezed his throat harder, with a large grin on his face.

Light liked this.

Light really was a masochist.

The satisfied smirk didn't leave the beautiful face when both of them, much to L's dismay, clicked into their appropriate places. L was really strangling the young man under him, even when one hand clawed weakly at L's grip and another pushed against L's chest. Light was dying.

This was the deal, L realized.

Light's life was pulsating weakly in L's grasp, and as much as L would despise himself for taking this precious life, he knew he could, at any given moment.

L's happiness was drained; he would be miserable with Light alive or dead. And this made Light happy.

It was the deal they made all that time ago in that cheap motel near a library with a koi pond.

Light's life for L's happiness.

No amount of brilliance and cleverness and wonderful lies L found so attractive, not even a loss of everything Light owned could substitute for the price of a life.

No scars, no love, not even a heart torn fresh out of L's chest would substitute for the price of happiness.

A futile gasp.

A hand that dropped from L's chest and smacked lifelessly against the naked belly.

Beautiful caramel eyes that drifted shut.

Fingernails withdrew from L's clutch, and Light's hand fall loosely on top of L's knuckles.

It was like they were finally holding hands.

In peace.

* * *

Glass.

His pockets were full of shattered, broken glass. The folds in his jeans and his shirt and his hair and even his skin were all perfect places for tiny pearl-size pieces of glass to get lost in. There were millions of tiny shards and slivers, all disconnected and scattered, never to be whole again.

Most of them were clear, and much like expensive diamonds, they glittered brilliantly in the red and blue lights of police and ambulance sirens.

The ones what weren't diamonds were rubies instead. They were dull and red and colored in streams of flowing blood. Blood was everywhere, accompanying glass in a small trail of shards and crimson behind him.

No, no he wasn't walking, he was being walked or dragged by at least six police officers.

They were walking him towards the police cruisers. His hands were bound behind his back and he could barely keep his eyes open.

Glass was small and not sharp enough... it was treated glass.

Like from windshields in cars.

He looked behind him.

A car, a beige new BMW was flattened on the driver's side and lay upside down on the pavement littered with scraps and rubber. The slivers of metal reminded him of silver tinfoil, and the car itself was like a mutilated piece scrap metal. Rocks were around it… no they were concrete pieces broken off from the row of shattered two-ton highway separators.

Was he in _that_?

Shouldn't they put him in an ambulance instead?

He looked around, more confused than when he found himself with pieces of glass sparkling all over his body like glitter on a Christmas three.

He looked down at the ground and realized he was only walking with one leg, the other one was dragging behind him like a lifeless log.

He was being dragged.

Noise…

Car...

Speed…

Glass…

Blood…

What happened to him?

He looked sideways, around for anything to see himself in.

A mirror, he needed a mirror.

The only one he found was the reflective surface of the back window of the police car he was shoved into.

He was covered in his own blood.

He was wearing a white bloody shirt.

His jeans pant leg was soaking in blood up to the knee.

Other things he noticed, not as prominent as injuries, glass and blood were small things.

For example, he had black hair.

And what a glorious mess it was!

Hadn't he ever washed his hair?

Or even heard of a basic grooming?

He just couldn't remember.

Not a thing.

* * *

**A/N**: before you freak the fuck out at really short chapter, follow these simple steps.

1. Review this chapter.

2. Wait **24 hours** for chapter 25 ;D This is a double update. For obvious reasons, I couldn't just leave you with this chapter for a month, could I now?

What the hell happened to me?

I dropped this for a month because I could not look at the same chapters that needed revision anymore, and was doing Nano.

**Alternative Gods**

LightxL (finally the other way around!)

Heavy stuff. Will publish when I figure out what to do with it. As DT is coming to an end (even though there're still 6 chapters and 4 chapters of prologue), I needed another baby, so well. Another mindfucking MEGAFIC you **will** like! ;D

It's too late at night for me to be talking. I need to read my L Change the World, too…

Oh, I actually do have a public service announcement. Go get your H1N1 shots. No, it is NOT over yet, and if you think, _"tralala, I'm so lucky I dodged the 1st wave and I won't get it on 2nd wave, even if I do it can't be that bad anyway, tralala,"_ YOU ARE WRONG. GET THE SHOT. GET THE SHOT. GET THE SHOT. I'm serious. YOU REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT THAT SHOT. TRUST ME.

CH25: **The Saints are Coming**

l

l

l

l

V

The Magic Button


	25. The Saints Are Coming

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

_We are all standing on the edge of a cliff, every minute of every day, a cliff we will all eventually go over, that is not our choice, our choice is whether we go kicking and screaming or open our minds and our hearts to what is happening as we fall._

**CH25**

**The Saints ****A****re Coming **

"…D-dad… I'm – I'm sorry. Tell mom and Sayu I'm sorry. Actually, don't tell them anything at all. I had no choice. Ryuzaki, no. Not Ryuzaki, L. L took me to Tsuwano a long time ago. He was catholic. A mass murderer was a catholic, I mean how stupid is that? So L, a catholic, took me to this church here a long time ago. This is why this had to happen here in Tsuwano. And I miss him… I killed him in that warehouse that day, you told me you believed me, well believe me now. I killed him there, Ryuzaki Rue was L and I killed him."

"And I, I can't do this anymore. I loved him, and it… it really doesn't matter what he did to all those people, or to… or to me. I am in love with him, and I killed him, and I want to see him again. And if he was catholic, he went to Hell. I don't know where in Hell exactly, but there's no doubt he went there. So I have to make sure wherever he is, what I do is bad enough to allow me to the part of Hell he went to."

"I am very sorry about the people that had to die. I am very sorry, dad. I'm sorry for everything I did to you. You had another heart-attack, and that's another thing you may blame on me. When you almost died, did you see Ryuzaki in the purgatory? Well, I hope I'm with him by the time you get this. I'm sorry. Raito."

As a Conflict of Interest, Soichiro Yagami was taken off the case immediately.

As courtesy, he was taken to Tsuwano anyway.

To see it.

Doctors warned him he would have another heart attack, but he didn't. He was a chief of police for God's sake; he had a case to solve, even if he was on medical leave and officially off the case.

"There are strangulation bruises around his neck. It's not definite, but it looks like he attempted to hang himself before doing this," said some video expert behind Soichiro.

_A CD suicide note was left taped to a door of the charred ventilation room of Tsuwano's small shopping mall. _

_Light Yagami's abandoned laptop was found on the floor next to the door, left at a point of hacking the mall's security, fire and ventilation systems. _

_The windows of the ventilation room were sealed shut with a gluegun. _

_So was the door._

_The gluegun was found with only Light's prints on it. _

* * *

Light glued.

He was down on his knees so that the bottom of the window was at his eyelevel, completely observed with what he was doing.

He didn't flinch, didn't frown, didn't appear to be in the least bit disturbed by what he was doing, hell when L got close enough to him, he could even hear Light humming jingles.

L frowned. He tried not to think of awful things that made him want to do awful things to Light, but the indifference to the human lives that were about to be lost and the ease with which Light went along with the plan after contributing generously to it made L uncomfortable.

The rapid deterioration of Light's character was unsettling.

They promised each other to try to understand, so L figured now was a time as good as ever to try and talk.

"Raito-kun, we promised each other to try, so I shall begin," L started, and Light murmured an indifferent 'mmhm' to acknowledge L's presence.

"I would like to know what is going through Light's head right now as he is executing a setup to a mass murder."

"Christmas carols," Light half-sung cheerfully, still too absolved with the task of gluing the windows.

"Mid-summer, Raito-kun?"

"Sure, why not."

L sighed.

"I would like to know how Raito-kun justifies murdering a police officer, a hotel clerk, and all these innocent people he is about to suffocate."

"'Justifies'? Why do I have to justify anything I do to the great L?"

"Not to me. How does he rationalize this with himself?"

"Well, how do you rationalize this with yourself?"

What L wanted to say had to do with Light minding his own business.

But he did promise to try.

So he tried.

And lied considerably less than he would if this was a police interrogation.

"Raito-kun, I promised I would _try_," L informed, making sure Light understood the favor and returned it, "and so, I didn't think it fair I had to die early. I lured a group of young people into a room, locked it and set in on fire."

Light rolled his eyes at the plastic glue, and L realized he would have to elaborate.

"I was never afraid of dying, on the contrary I was planning to die, but only after everything I tried would fail to satisfy my need for excitement. So, I had to try _everything_. It failed for a while, and then after that explosion-"

"The fire," Light reminded him.

"Yes, that. After that, when they could not catch me, I realized I was not bored anymore. And so…" L made a dramatic pause before he continued, "I am not bored anymore," he finished off, owlishly staring at Light.

A quick and shy side glimpse as fake as they came made L relax.

"That's fair enough I guess," Light hummed.

"Raito-kun. _Try_."

"Fine. I rationalize this... as self defense."

"If Raito-kun wanted to exercise self defense, he would have bludgeoned me to death when he regained consciousness after I nearly strangled him a few days ago."

"Hell no, I'm not enabling you."

"Enabling me?"

"Your suicide attempts."

"Excuse me? Raito-kun accuses me of a suicide attempt when he is about to fake his own?"

"You fell asleep after nearly killing me. Next to me, in a room that had two guns, a knife, and a crowbar!"

"I was not asleep, Raito-kun."

"Suicidal maniac!"

"Liar!"

L showed teeth.

Light's pearly whites sparked.

"Wow, lookadat. Snarling bitches," Mello commented.

But Mello knew better than Light did, after all L told Mello about this.

Light could manipulate people easily. Light could guide people into sheer blindness with his honey voice alone, and under this blissful hypnosis, Light could tell people to commit homicides, and they would do his bidding freely.

But these were words, not actions. Among things such as 'brilliant' and 'genius', Light was also a coward, and as such he would never be able to pull the trigger himself, be it a trigger of a pistol on a hotel clerk, or a trigger of a gluegun on an air-tight room.

Light was always the small push to the open road, never the hands behind the driving wheel.

And yet, his rationalization, his motive, his actions...

The necessity for these actions was scarce-

Ah.

There.

Down he went.

Cheerful caramel eyes slowly drifted shut, and before Light could close his eyes completely and hit the ground with his back, L jumped up behind him and caught him around the waist. A heavy head fell onto L's shoulder and soft auburn locks tickled the side of his face. L shrugged his shoulder, and the caramel eyes snapped open.

The soft person in L's arms shrugged back.

"Wake up, you," L said and shook the boy again.

"I'm fine, sorry. I'm-"

L gave him a side stare and tightened his grip around the waist. Light returned the side stare.

"Please take a minute to rest."

"I don't need a minute."

Light stubbornly raised the gluegun again, and L felt a ping of retaliation in himself as well. He would've done the whole thing for Light if there was a way to make sure only Light's hairs and fingerprints were on the glue and the gluegun.

But there was something he could do, out of spite if anything. He sat down on the floor more comfortably, and keeping one hand around Light's waist, pulled out a leather glove and slipped it on with his teeth.

Light didn't say anything when L put his hand over his, and they both held the gluegun, even if L only made the task more difficult.

Well, this was just charming.

And as charming as this all was, L felt Light's hand tremble weakly and his face against L's own was cold and pale, and concern didn't make L stop wondering.

There were other ways. The odd murder-suicide suggestion was the first idea L expected Light to reject. Instead, the boy said 'sure' like he was offered cream instead of skim milk in his coffee.

Light took his coffee black.

Light, accepting anything other than bitter coffeebeans floating in some hot water made the alarm go off in L's head.

Well, metaphorically speaking anyway, since L never offered Light any coffee.

Maybe he should have since they slept in the same bed for three days.

L jumped up at the idea.

"Raito-kun," he announced triumphantly, somewhat satisfied with Light's minor annoyance when he startled the boy, "I am going to get us coffee. Would you like cream or skim milk?"

Light's eyebrow jumped up and he slowly turned, looking at L as if L had a pot of flowers on his head.

"Black, please."

But the cream…

So L left Light and went to buy one black coffee with no cream, one hot chocolate, and a dozen vanilla doughnuts from a coffee girl who was due to die in the next few hours.

The irony.

L set the coffee and the doughnut box in front of Light.

Light only took the coffee.

"Sugar, Raito-kun."

"That's okay."

"Sugar, Raito-kun. Now."

Light glared, but still pinched a doughnut delicately and took a small and very unwilling bite.

"Happy?"

"Quite."

* * *

_The glue gun used to seal the ventilation room had traces of powder sugar and coffee on it. _

_The air-conditioning shaft was also manually sealed._

_The airtight ventilation room with disabled fire sprinklers, packed with firewood and coal purchased in large quantities from local stores, was left to smolder for two hours. _

_It cooked until all the wood was gone and the limited amount of oxygen was used up, and all that was left in the airtight, sealed ventilation room were ashes and Carbon Monoxide. _

* * *

"Who the hell did ya sleep with to get that kinda wood?"

L elected not to show his deep amusement by stuffing his mouth full of liquorish, so that any grin or smirk was masked by bulging candy and god forbid he accidentally giggled, his giggles could be translated as choking.

Light tired to make sense of his expression, but quickly lost interest and returned Mello the favor of a witty remark.

Moments later both extremely sensitive not-quite-men glared at L in threatening unison, and L jammed some caramels into his already full mouth.

"Wa-ff?" he said innocently.

"Your boyfriend's a woman. Which makes you a lesbian, L," Mello pointed out.

"I now understand why you win arguments all the time," said Light to Mello.

Mello raised an eyebrow.

"It's hard to lose when your standards are so low," Light finished, making a referring gesture to L's person.

Both stared at L again, and L performed a very mighty swallow.

"No!" He shouted, spooked by what was happening. "Absolutely not! Mello, Raito-kun said you were ugly. Raito-kun, Mello said you were fat. You two may NOT get along. Ever!"

Light rolled his eyes and Mello and L helped him load all the firewood into the back of a stolen white van.

To be fair, L and Mello were doing most of the loading and lifting, Light did his part gracefully and slowly, masking everything both L and Mello knew for a fact Light was hiding and soldering on though.

Light was feeling extremely lightheaded and on the verge of fainting.

When he thought nobody was looking, he held onto a railing or a wall. His eyelids twitched and his eyes crossed, and at this point L would drop things and get hamburgers with red meat, strong tea with sugar or sweet baked goods.

"Uh-oh," said Mello after catching Light nearly drop a very light pack of firewood, "I think you better feed him."

"I'm _fine_," Light bit.

* * *

_After everything turned into ashes, surveillance video cameras picked up the Yagami boy, dressed into formal suit and tie and looking as perfect as ever, walking into the center of the crowded mall. _

_Light dialed a number on his cellphone that turned out to be a trigger for the small amount of explosives attached to the block in the ventilation shaft. This unsealed the air-conditioning and started to circulate air. Air picked up from the ventilation room. _

_The following last acts of Light Yagami were also caught on camera:_

_Pulling out a gun. _

_Shooting himself in the chest. _

_Around him, the dynamics of the mall were sluggish and faint. _

_The automatic doors trapped people inside, not that many realized what was happening. _

_In the matter of minutes, all 58 men, women and children that were inside of the small shopping mall dropped and perished like flowers going out of bloom. _

_They went quietly, making the mute surveillance tapes all the more real._

_All 58 people died unnoticed. Nobody discovered the happening for the next hour. _

_Light Yagami lay dead in the center of the mall for 23 minutes, bleeding out slowly. _

_

* * *

_

"That's a lot of blood," said Light, eyeing seven pints of... well, blood.

"Yup. And it's aaall your blood. Every. Single. Drop."

L frowned.

"I do not see how bleeding Raito-kun out of two-thirds of his blood in three days is something to marvel at, Mello," L lied.

"Still," said Light, "that's a lot of blood. We could've stopped at five."

They could have stopped at five, but L convinced Mello the more pints pile up, the merrier, and all Light could really do about it was take the donation needle and suck it up, and then wonder about half-conscious and quite easy to have sex with.

If L chose to have sex with him.

He had not.

He honestly didn't even want to touch him, much less sleep in teh same bed with him, but out courtesy, they slept in the same bed anyway.

What.

Drowsiness and fainting weren't the main concerns, either.

The first question Mello asked Light when the whole idea was born was, could Light handle a small scar just above his collarbone. Because it was Mello asking this question, and Light couldn't help but scan over Mello's fully healed burn scar and remember just how that scar came about, Light was literally backed into a corner and agreed for a tracheal tube for artificial respiration to be inserted into his trachea. A condition of "Mello does that. _You_ stay the fuck away from me" was given and upheld.

And when the bloodpack and the artificial respiration devise attached to a canister worth 25 minutes of oxygen were all installed and hidden under a formal jacket and a tie, the last thing Light said before going in was, "I look fat."

"It's 'cause of that doughnut you ate."

"Shut up."

* * *

_Within the next hour, L (who was identified on the tape as 'Mello' and was currently running amok in Tsuwano), came in with a gasmask and found Light Yagami dead among the sea of people. _

_Light's eyes were still open, so L tenderly closed them, and after a short visual contemplation, kissed his dead lower on the forehead and dragged Light's dead body out of the sight of the cameras. _

_Into the parking lot._

_Into a white industrial van._

_Where he took off westbound. _

* * *

"Mello, he will suffocate!"

"We _can't_. Security guard in the parking lot. _There_. Do you _not_ see the security guard?"

A minute since Light entered the Carbon Monoxide-rich environment and twenty minutes of playing dead made it twenty-one minutes of oxygen gone from a 25-minute tank.

By now, Light's air must be wearing thin, and at 25 minutes he will begin to struggle for air. At 26 minutes, Light would inevitably and _visibly_ twitch.

Mello had to pull him out _now_.

"We have 4 minutes, just wait, he'll go away!"

L would have none of it.

"Go in. I'll get the guard."

Mello must have known this was a very big strategic mistake, but he did as he was ordered anyway.

L haphazardly pulled his hair into a high ponytail, grabbed Mello's baseball cap and pulled on a black nylon shirt as he speed-walked up to a random car within the guard's earshot, picked up a rock and smashed a window making enough noise to draw attention to himself.

The guard sprinted for him, and L hesitated and delayed running away until he saw Mello sneak into the mall right behind the guard's back.

They could not be seen walking into a mall wearing gasmasks.

But the large man quickly approaching L was a concern.

L stalled, making sure he was caught before entering the field of view of a camera that could take a close-up shot of his face, and once the guard tackled him to the ground, L elbowed him in the ribs.

The guard was tougher still than he looked and managed to get L in the shoulder with his club once, twice, before L elbowed him in the jaw and fractured the his collarbone. Disoriented, the man let go of L's arm, but that was enough. L slid down, dropped to the ground and delivered a swift kick to the man's skull.

KO.

Without assessing the damage, he ran back to the car, stole the registration papers and some shopping from the back seat as quickly as he could and took off, making the mass homicide inside of the mall and assault of a mall security guard legitimately unrelated.

Hopefully.

Meanwhile, Mello swiped the opened-eyes stickers from Light's eyes, lovingly took off his gasmask, held his breath and kissed Light on the forehead, and hurled the fat motherfucker out.

The mall had the shittiest cameras anyway. The tapes would record the whites of the sticker eyes. The angle which Mello carefully kept would catch Mello's vague description, but not even his new scar.

Uh, wow.

The cameras would also never pick up that the little bastard boyfriend _actually_ fucking fell asleep.

And that he had freakin' headphones in his ears and was listening to his iPod for about 20 minutes.

Great.

They got themselves another elitist.

Mello dragged Light out of the mall.

* * *

_What Mello-L didn't take with him was over three liters of Light Yagami's blood, a shell casing of the bullet, the gun itself, the cellphone, or any of the 58 people. _

_58 people Light Yagami murdered in order to find L in the afterlife. _

_Only L was alive, only 23 minutes made all the difference in the lives of 58 people. _

_It was like perfect Romeo and Juliet. _

_Except, none of the officers on the case expected L to commit a ritualistic suicide and follow Light much like Juliette followed Romeo. _

_Light was just another pretty boy, unfortunate enough with his looks and mind to catch L's interest. Light was already diagnosed with paranoia; he was disturbed, suicidal and apparently developed a Stockholm syndrome. _

_And by the looks of things, L was a necrophiliac. _

_That was the end of it. _

_Light Yagami's murder-suicide was as good as closed. _

_They had L to catch. _

Only, Soichiro Yagami didn't buy any of it.

Not even the part where his son wanted to be with that maniac.

Light Yagami was alive.

As that boy's father, Soichiro Yagami just knew it.

"Chief-"

"Matsuda... swear to me. Swear to me on Light's soul. You'll catch that Mello, or L, or whoever the hell he is. If it wasn't for him, my son would be alive. Swear it."

Matsuda did.

So did Ide.

Both men, the only men the case of L's murder spree in Japan left alive , swore to something Chief Yagami didn't even believe, and as the bad slowly slips into the worse, and at some point the line between worse and worse ceases to exist.

Minutes later, Idea and Matsuda were officially kicked off the L case along with the Chief, and any hopes of taking a stab at Light's murder-suicide became wishful thinking.

The three off-duty officers were allowed to hang on the scene for as long as it took the forensics to wrap up, which later proved to be just enough time to set the roots of a major disaster for L and Light.

None of them knew this yet, instead Soichiro Yagami with his loyal disbursed team behind him grit his teeth and re-watched Light's suicide video over and over.

In the video, Light closed his eyes and smiled. His pearly white teeth sparkled as perfectly as they sparkled on every photo in the Yagami household. Most of the photos were proud magazine and newspaper shots, carefully cut out and framed for the world to see the achievements of the Chief's boy.

For a short while, all the photos and scrapbooks were thrown away into boxes, and as soon as Light took off with Misa Amane, chief Yagami took the pictures out and placed them exactly where they were; aware that one day his son would decide to be a bigger man and come back home.

Perhaps _that_ was Soichiro's fault; sometimes his son felt like an accessory to go with all the cutouts and scrapbooks, as a part of the set.

But Soichiro knew his son, maybe better than what most people gave him credit for.

The photo on the cover of the junior sports magazine with Light grinning widely at his new tennis trophy was a lie. Light was sporting a sprained ankle, and as soon as he was out of the earshot of public opinion and within the safely in his father's car, that boy closed the windows and revealed the injury. And swore and frowned all he wanted.

His son's picture in the newspaper was as joyful as anyone would expect a kid who just placed first in the national exams to look. This photo was also a lie; Soichiro knew this because just moments before the picture was taken, Light was informed he would be giving his 1st year honorary entrance speech in ToOh with Ryuga Hideki, and that drove Light practically livid for days on.

The perfect smile at the end of his son's suicide video was also a lie.

It was what made the chief wonder just which parts of the suicide note were actually true.

He concluded that none were.

Light never loved anything more than he loved himself; that was a fact Soichiro knew all too well as the boy's father.

Light would never kill himself for the sake of his 'love'.

And contrary to the surveillance video, L was not Mello, in fact Soichiro had seen both L and Mello, alive and well.

"_When you almost died, did you see Ryuzaki in the purgatory?"_

A hint. A hint intended for the man who never reported his house being broken into by Ryuzaki Rue just days ago.

"_I hope I'm with him by the time you get this."_

If his son was, it was sure as hell not for long.

* * *

"For fuck's sake, it was stupider than all the fucking stupid things you, me and Matt ever did combined!"

"We had no choice."

"No, _you_ had a choice. You had a choice to go according to the damn plan and keep your huge ego out of the freakin' cameras! Maybe you forgot, but you were supposed to be dead! If they start looking for _you¸_ not me, not _him_, you L, your stupid ass, if they as much as catch a whiff of it, we are fucking screwed! Because of a _choice_ you fucking _had_!"

"Mello should calm down!"

"Mello should fucking not calm down! That was _stupid_ and extremely fucking idiotic! Maybe he's worth the fucking Olympus to you, he may for all I care, you can fucking be responsible for him. Hell, I'll even help you! As long as you don't fucking sacrifice my ass to save his, it'll all be fucking marvelous!"

"Mello is exaggerating, not only is he exaggerating, he is rationalizing. Between him, Light and myself, Mello is the one enjoying the most safety!"

"Bull fucking shit--- what the hell are you laughing at?!"

Behind the pages of a glossy fashion magazine, Light was simply beaming, and shamelessly at that. Diplomatically, tapping a corner of the page against his chin, he looked up as if he hadn't the faintest idea what was happening. Grinning even wider, he flipped the page.

"Oh, nothing. Just a little thing I read. But do continue. By the way, the word you're looking for is 'gambit'."

"See?!! What the hell!"

"Please note that Raito-kun was never the excessively grateful kind, Mello."

The occupants of the motel room next to them knocked against the wall and shouted for them to shut up.

"Oh, go to hell!" Mello shouted right back at them, "you assholes aren't even sleeping, WE CAN HEAR YOU DOING IT!"

Everything irritated Mello that day, and L understood the problem.

They were compromised, and calling it anything other than that was simply suicidal.

The blonde hair bounced in the air when Mello finally plopped onto the vacant bed, still fuming.

"Ugh. Fuck."

"Yes, indeed."

"Done already?"

"Shut up."

"Yes, indeed."

"Shut up too, you! Ughh. We need a fucking brand new and shiny-"

No. No new plans.

"Absolutely not. The old plan is _fine_."

"And how the hell are we supposed to get out of the country with both of us wanted, genius?"

"You do not know that."

But they did know it, and it was only a matter of time, and even if it wasn't, the risk outweighed the benefits enormously. Their entire 'get-out-of-Japan' ticket relied heavily on at least one person not getting national media search coverage, and if Ryuzaki Rue was even hinted at being alive... Nobody would know. It was just one camera that had another nobody breaking into a car.

And yet, they have resorted to the default backup plan because of much less, and as much as L didn't want to be left alone with Light, he was going to be left alone with Light be it because of an elaborate plan to separate, or simply because he escalated Mello's level of irritation until the blonde just took off on his own.

L opted for the later, somehow enjoying the mutual irritation a little too much.

A lamp was thrown at L, and Mello stomped towards the door.

"I will see Mello in London!"

"I'll see your sorry ass on Crime Stoppers on TV!"

"Crime Stoppers does not air in London!"

"What's Crime Stoppers?" said Light, still completely unaffected by Mello suddenly divorcing L from their shotgun marriage.

"Raito-kun will see when we get to London!"

"YOU JUST SAID CRIME STOPPERS DOESN'T AIR IN LONDON YOU ASSHOLE!" shouted Mello over his shoulder before slamming the door had enough for the bits of dry wallpaper glue to sprinkle the motel carpet.

The roar of the old engine and clattering of the loose metal signaled Mello signing the custody papers as his final act. L rolled his eyes. The people in the neighboring room banged on their wall again, as if L had any control over the noise level of the old Volvo.

"No screaming, no making noises... you know, I bet you they're doing it with the lights off," commented Light, still engulfed by his magazine.

"We can do better than insult from afar, Raito-kun."

"Oh?"

"Mello just took our car."

Light sweetly closed his magazine and placed in on his lap, turned around and peaked out of the window right behind his chair.

"Oho. Looks like somebody _had_ a brand-new BMW."

"Discreet. And very subtle."

When Light was about to return to his magazine as if nothing happened, L sat down on one of the beds and crossed his legs, observing Light closely.

"What?"

"Light does not appear concerned with our current predicament in the slightest."

"Whatever. You'll figure it out."

L looked around the room, up at the ceiling and considered everything.

"You know, it would be much easier to leave Japan on my own than with you."

Light raised an eyebrow.

"'Kay. Why am I still here?"

"You are a consolation prize."

"Oh, well. There you go. Figure it out and leave me alone, this magazine is- very… interesting." But oh, where did that confidence and a subtle suggestion L should just finish Light off _go_ when L pulled out a heavy berretta and aimed it. Oh, did color leave Light's face, oh, did he subconsciously shield himself with his magazine before even finishing his sentence.

It was nice, it was. The power.

Knowing that everything L went through for that little bastard who hated him was a waste made him want to squeeze the life out of that little... and what would he have left? He took what he got. Power he had was no longer a thing of consequence since Light generally stopped caring, about everything really.

And having the power to still make him squirm despite it being ultimately of no consequence was still... intoxicating.

Drawing a heavy, loaded gun and aiming it… Light tried shrink where he sat.

But L's beautiful guns only did half of the trick.

Knowing how much Light was afraid of guns was the other half. The light twitch in the kneecaps, the white knuckles gripping the magazine, the hiding, all while trying to look unbothered made L forget things.

The scene was delicious.

It was arousing.

God.

He grabbed the magazine and tore it out of Light's clutch, and small shreds of paper still remained in Light's clenched fists when L looked down on him. And Light only saw the gun, the silver heavy metal piece of art staring at him with a single eye.

L clicked the safety off, and the gorgeous brunette nearly jumbled out of his skin. Wow.

Loose light-brown hairs, tiny beads of sweat, smooth soft skin...

L pressed the barrel right between the caramel eyes that wrinkled and closed immediately. He let himself enjoy this, touched the shivering lips with the tips of his fingers, traced down the warm neck and undid one button before allowing the gun retrace his fingers' steps down the line of the pointy nose, over his lips, down his neck...

"How is it?"

Light didn't hear him.

"I said, how is it?" L demanded, impaling the sweet curve of the boy's under-chin on his gun. The things he could do with that gun... things his partner would never handle, but still, oh was he tempted...

"It's-s c-cold," Light finally managed, and L saw tiny tears glisten in the corners of the screwed eyes.

Yes, well, no more of that.

Safety was back on the gun, and as soon as the metal lost contact with the soft skin, momentarily Light became himself again, the innocent and naïve boy, who was hurt, who was scared, who needed to hold onto Ryuzaki as the only straw keeping his sanity together.

Fists clutched onto the back L's shirt and for the briefest of moments, the perfect illusion was complete, and it was over all too soon when Light let go and allowed his hands to slide don't L's back.

"Let's just fuck," said Light, as indifferent and mock-happy as he was just a minute ago.

"Let's 'have sex', Light. At least do not make sound so crude."

"Ha, next thing you'll be calling it is 'making love'," Light laughed again, humorlessly, and if anything had the power to kill a mighty erection, it was laughter.

L frowned and threw Light's cold embrace off himself.

"Get your things. We are driving tonight."

Light smiled unpleasantly.

"We could've shown them how to do it properly, you know," was the last dash of salt he sprinkled on that.

L said nothing and went to steal their neighbor's beige BMW.

* * *

I'm posting this and eating.

I don't care. I'm really, really hungry.

THANK-YOUS FOR REVIEWING CHAPTER 23: **Sovoyita, Black-Dranzer-1119, jarnee337, Chatwyn, fouloldron, Dacara, IsobelAnis, Huehuetecti, fluffy2044, Not Yet Knowing, Dark Green Poop, xLawli-Popx, Koolneko22, Nardaviel, RakuenKit, CharmGirl24, s3v3n-d34d1135, eluvium Kaioma, My Favorite Crooked Smile, Purple Glass, Anna Marie Lynn, Warratah, ArtistOfLight, isamu-michi, SunnydayinPallet, Midori Heiwa, Zhandra01, Jetta, Altair718, ssjRaina, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, Shi-koi, Melica, bishieholic, uchiha fan, dragon_fly, fan-fan31, Kamikaze Wolf, Tai Anime, BloodyShinigami **and** strawberry cheescake!**

THANKIES FOR CAPTER 24: **Black-Dranzer-1119, Cruel Angel's Love, Huehuetecti, merichuel, IsobelAnis, Cakeat, ellan54, DrRabbit, Warratah, Your Alien, Midory Heiwa, Ascel, Sovoyita, strawberry cheesecake, fan-fan31, juri, My Favorite Crooked Smile, Koolneko22, isamu-mich, Miller Rabbit of Caerbannog **and** Altair718!!!**

**LOVE YOU LOVE YOU ALL FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND THANK YOU!!!c**

Oof. ;3;

**CH26: Tower of Babel**

Fake suicide. Failed sex.

Ominous car crash you _know_ will happen.

For everything else, there is Magic Button.

l

l

l

V


	26. The Tower of Babel

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, el Mexico el 30 degreetto hot in Januaero el macho Tequila y Pina Colada es good, and I do not own Death Note, and I don't really speak Spanish either. _

**IV: Tartini**

**CH26**

**The Tower of Babel**

When Matsuda had a hunch, he pushed it. It was what got him his job in the first place.

"So the guy on the parking lot tape. Did he have black hair?"

"The tape? It was ruled out as unrelated. It's black and white and grainy anyway, and Matsuda? We're in Japan. Everyone has black hair."

"Aww," said Matsuda and thought about it some more. "OH! OH YES! It was an assault, right? He knocked the guard out, right? But we don't see his face… You know what... let's see the tape anyway."

When officers on the case gave Matsuda the look Matsuda was all too familiar with (the very same look that accused him of being an idiot), Matsuda insisted anyway.

"We should probably look at it in private, Yagami-san."

"For God's sake, Matsuda-!" the older officer began, but Matsuda pushed and pushed until the chief and Ide agreed to see it.

"Okay," he said, popping the tape in. "You're all about to see something glorious. I mean, nothing is glorious about the current situation, I'm sorry, that was rude, I didn't mean to-"

"Matsuda!"

"Okay, okay. So. I have a hunch, and I'm about to perform a magic trick. You'll recognize the person on the tape in like, two seconds. If I'm right."

The tape finished fastforwarding to the parking lot scene where Matsuda decided to pause it for dramatic effect.

"So, without much further ado..."

He played it, crossing fingers he didn't turn out to look like a complete moron and his conspiracy theory turned out to be completely idiotic.

But it wasn't.

Ide jumped out of the chair and the Chief took his face into his hands.

"YES! Now, my dear Watsons. Who do we all know who kicks like… well, who kicks like _that_?"

* * *

mo"-roommate. Found him in nothing but pink panties in a motel six hours away from the dorm, no idea how he got there, hell if he himself knows. Shiro. Shiro, dude. Wake up and show the nice officer you are not a cadavra and I am not a pervert. Shiro!"

With his face buried into the cool texture of the leather cushion of the back seat, Light grunted and mule-kicked L's driver seat.

"Well, there you go, sir. He's, erm... fine-"

"You have a roommate and yet you drive this kind of car, sir?" the checkpoint officer wearing an orange and yellow fluorescent vest had a thick and bushy mustache that he wore proudly, exactly the way he took his job, and little did he know that just than L lied to be exposed.

"Ah, I see," continued L without losing a beat. His sheepish and intimidated grin turned sleazy, "Yes I see sir, sorry about that, I didn't mean to… mislead you. Ryuga Matsumoto, Private Investigator, here is my PI licensee. This boy's parents, who provided me with methods of transportation, see, were under suspicion he was… skipping out on his obligations as a fiancé. Well, he was, alright. See, that part about pink panties-"

"Really now, sir?"

"Scout's honor." L's facial muscles were beginning to ache from the artificial expression, if only in his imagination because L's lies came as effortlessly as Light's would have. The only difference, L supposed, was that as big of a liar he was, he would have much preferred watching Light lie his pretty face off instead.

"Boy's ID, sir."

"Oh, I would, if pink panties wasn't all he had on him when I found him."

"Sir, initially misleading an officer is an offen-"

But L interrupted the man and told him in a low and secretive whisper just whose son Light was supposed to be.

"I hope you can see why this matter is better kept... quiet, if you know what I mean, officer-sir" finished L, and the gaping officer quickly handed L back his fake papers and waved him through.

"Thank you, officer! Why the road block, anyway?"

"Catching bad guys, haven't you heard about Tsuwano L panic?"

"Haha, not so much. I heard it was a prank?"

"You better be going, sir," the man wrinkled his face in disapproval of L taking the very serious matter so lightly, "drive safely and report anything suspicious. The highway to Kanto has another half-dozen checkpoints. You better wake that boy up if you don't want any more trouble."

The BMW rattled very lightly as it passed the deflated road spikes and L saw Light's slight shift of complaint in the rearview mirror. Asleep, just not asleep enough to appear dead, Light was a very distracting thing to have in his rearview mirror, L concluded after he realized he was watching the fake-brunette sleep instead of watching the road.

It was very early in the morning, and even L was more tired than he would admit. This meant another stop. Another round of candy bars from the vending machine. Another motel. Another awful bed that screeched.

Fortunately, they were way out of the middle of nowhere, which meant motels were getting better as L drove them closer to society, and the nameless motel L pulled over to looked more or less respectable.

This would be their last motel before Kanto (and ultimately Tokyo), L decided for both of them. Last stop as peculiar visors before their identities got tangled and lost in the sea of faceless masses of people in the downtown Tokyo. And then, Britain.

And then it would be done.

L kind of felt disappointed.

If anything, he dragged out their ride from Tsuwano to Tokyo just for the sake of prolonging the moment. Unless karma wasn't done with them yet, they had a boring future ahead of them, the kind of future in which he and Light would sit face to face in plush chairs with a person with a clipboard watching them talk about their feelings, and other such _crap_.

In the back seat, Light grunted again and pulled L out of another melancholy dilemma. L sighed, killed the engine and got out of the car and closed the door behind him gently to prolong another moment that was bound to die soon: Light's sleep.

The thrill of leaving Light alone in the car, free to run away from L wasn't even there, but L found himself booking the room with an entrance from the front by himself anyway.

When he got back to the BMW, Light was... still in it. Sleep. Just the way L left him.

_Oh, for the sake of brownies!_

This sad, miserable depression and sulking thing was really starting to get on L's nerves.

He opened the back passenger's door suddenly to make a point, and earned himself nothing but Light cursing and jerking awake and glaring through squinted and sleepy eyes when his makeshift headrest was taken away from him.

It was just dawning, the gray air and very light breeze made the heat bearable, and Light's wrinkled skin on the side of the face he slept on, his imperfect hair, his honey eyes, his frown, his bandaid just between the collarbones where his shirt buttons came undone all made L understand one thing.

"I have to sleep with you," L said out-loud as suddenly as the thought entered his head, and dove into the car half-way to kiss the sleepy, angry person in his back seat. He then allowed the palms of his hands cup the sides of the brunette's face, let his thumbs trace the smooth jawline-

"W-what the hell!" said Light and pried L off himself by the collar of a v-neck shirt. L looked Light, at his ruffled clothes and hair and tried to figure out what Light was thinking.

There was complete outrage, and another thing L didn't quite have a word for despite having a very large vocabulary of twenty-something languages; it was something characteristic of and exclusive to Light's moods only. But it wasn't an angry thing, no. It was an expression Mello's vocabulary pronounced and expression of 'total-what-the-fuckery', something L had seen Light do once or twice. It was cute, and it was not a 'don't-touch-me' expression, and it wasn't a 'fuck-off-or-I'll-kick-you-where-the-sun-doesn't-shine' expression, so L decided to proceed.

He took the hand from his collar and held onto it, he traced the delicate neckline with his fingertips, he kissed and pushed Light back on the seats and crawled on top of him into the small salon of the BMW, and Light, still to sleepy but not disoriented in the slightest rolled his eyes in the lightest of moods and kissed back.

"Just to let you, ouch my elbow! – you know," he said conversationally and lightly, "we're still just fucking."

"Yes, okay," agreed L and hit his head against the low roof. He flinched and nibbled Light's ear sloppily while rubbing the injury with his hand.

Light laughed.

L got up to assess the situation, and hit his head again. He grinned too, probably like an idiot. Light ended up assessing the situation instead, and rolled his eyes as if figuring something out.

L decided to proceed again, but Light's knee now lodged into L's chest separating their bodies was a formidable enemy.

"And where are we?"

"Motel parking lot," said L, declaring war on the treacherous knee.

"And you're trying to fuck me in a back of a car when there's a whole motel right there?"

"That is correct Raito-kun, now kindly move the knee-"

"No."

"No?"

"I. Want. Motel."

"I want sex!"

"You can have your sex in the motel!"

"No! By the time I get Raito-kun too our room, Raito-kun will wake up and become passive and vicious again!"

L abandoned the knee and gripped the whole leg around the ankle and forcefully pushed the legs apart and slipped in-between, now having full access to Light's fly which he swiftly unzipped and palmed the warm bulge with nothing but thin gray underwear between his hand and Light's morning half-erection.

Not that L mistook the weak boner for an advantage; L was sure Light would have no trouble keeping his body in check if he really applied himself to it.

And in the short time they spent together without leaving each other's sight, L realized Light woke up with mild morning half-erections that went away easily and quickly every day.

If all he had on his side was a non-advantage and a disadvantage, keeping them in the car was clearly a point deduction, so through the soft fabric of the boxers, as if respecting Light's privacy, the soft warmth jerked very slightly. Up where it counted though, Light rolled his eyes and coolly glared at L.

"Alright," said L in defeat and closed Light's pants, restoring the boy to the exact state he had found him in: ruffled, sleepy, disapproving and mildly aroused, "I will take you to the motel."

He backed out from the car, and extended his hand of Light to take in a very gentleman-like manner. Light raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he took the hand and got to his feet and stretched.

"After you," deadpanned L.

"No, Miss. After you. I don't know where to go."

Their motel room was above L's expectations. The air-conditioner was new and the sheets were crisp and the room didn't smell like an air-freshener or cats or old people or other people's sex; even the door had a lock that opened with a magnet key-card, and not a rusty key.

By Light's expression, Light approved too, but not before he started his way to the far bed he clearly intended to occupy by himself and use exclusively for sleeping.

"Raito-kun, _no_."

"What?"

"Sex, Raito-kun."

"Oh, right. Maybe later?"

"Raito-kun is yanking my chain."

"Are you saying that..." Light began in mock outrage that rolled into seductive, teasing sound at the back of his throat, "that I actually want you fuck me, very, very hard, mmm, inside where it's hot and tight, and I'm not letting you do it just so that both of us go through hell? I am very disappointed you think that lowly of me, L, really-"

L jumped him and pinned him to the closest bed, from behind.

"Enough is enough."

"Oh, from behind? Kinky. Just like that one time in the bathroom when you broke half of my tiles and I had to clean my own blood from the floor, yeah?"

L kept his cool though the literary slap in the face he completely deserved and felt Lights' body tense when he grabbed him around the shoulders to turn him around and look at him. He didn't grab the brunette harshly, didn't toss him, all he did was turn him around. The look on Light's face suggested he would have rather been slapped and tossed than handled carefully, but the look quickly reversed into a cool expression of indifference.

"Whatever," whispered Light finally, "do what you want. I don't care."

L pursed his lips and looked Light over.

"Alright. I want you to do what I say, than. You will do as I say."

"Sure, whatever. What do you want, a blowjob? Sixty-nine? _Ice_?"

"Raito-kun loved the ice."

Light's body tightened under L in response.

"No ice, Raito-kun." L promised , straddled Light and pulled him from under himself so that both of them sat on the bed, face to face. L still held Light around the shoulders, and their faces were inches apart. L could feel Light's steady breath against his nose. "but do go and take a shower first."

"A shower?"

"Raito-kun doesn't exactly smell like a peach blossom after three days in the back of a car."

Light just shrugged and did as he was told.

"-and do not bother redressing, Raito-kun." L called back after him.

It felt trivial, business-like even; it was as though Light was employed by L, and L just requested Light to bring him some wheat bread.

Except that the wheat bread was supposed to be sex.

Which Light just shrugged off and agreed to deliver like it was nothing but wheat bread.

L _bought_ this kind of sex; what? Who said he had morals? L bought this kind of sex; he paid for it and it was delivered to him with the same personal value as if it was wheat bread he was paying for. Mostly it was great sex because L tended to buy sex that was worth a lot, but the problem was, this wasn't the kind of sex he was expecting from Light.

He just figured with that whole 'love' thing, that felt as if it came and went and nothing was left of it but a cigarette butt smoked down to a filter, it would be different. But here he was, buying wheat bread again.

Oh no.

He went there.

He went to the darkest corner of his mind that smelled of stale cigarette smoke and had yellow butts littering the ground.

The smoky corner that not so subtly suggested that he, for the most part, fell _out_ of love.

Abandoning the train of thought altogether, L ruffled the made sheets and gathered all the pillows the room had onto the bed.

Then he took off his clothes – he took off all of his clothes, climbed into the pillows and waited for the shower to turn off and for Light to walk out. Which, L knew, would take forever because Light was keen to a thing called grooming that took up obscene amounts of time out of L's wheat bread sex time.

L refused to admit he dozed off within that hour it took Light to finish his cleaning routine, even when a gorgeous, tall brunette with a lightly toned chest with droplets of water rolling down his lithe body and stumbling on the perkiest , pinkest nipples, with dripping hair, with long, strong legs and a loose towel around his narrow hips – a towel that was both too short and narrow, crawled slowly and quietly over L, and L would have never noticed if it wasn't for the water droplets caressing the beautiful body and then falling on L's naked chest.

L's eyes snapped wide open, suddenly, and Light froze, still hovering over L with a delicate, startled 'o' on his lips.

Instead of defining his state as 'I was not sleeping,' L bit his tongue and adored Light's body with his eyes. On all fours and on top of L, with gravity pushing the water around and playing with Light's body, Light looked just so... delicate, and willing, and fragile, and his towel just came loose and black hairs and the base of his engorged member became visible, and L placed both of his palms on naked hips and parts of towel and pulled Light down to sit.

Warm, smooth and wet inner thighs enclosed L's hips and Light's hot sex rubbed against L's own when Light rocked slightly. L realized he still loosely held the hips, and ultimately the towel, in place. A finger traced L's chest and L looked at what Light was touching.

L's heart surgery scar.

Then, the bullet scar just inches above it.

"You never told me what happened to Tartini," said Light quietly, finding, than tracing other small and old scars on L's stomach. There were a few, and L knew well he had never let Light fully see him, see him like this, completely naked and free to explore like a map. And Light was enjoying every small scratch and scar and bruise dimple, L could tell because Light's erection was pressed firmly against the side of L's, and every time Light found something interesting, his member jerked and trembled.

L let him play.

"Tartini?" said L in the same quiet tone as the beautiful person sitting on top of him, "he went to hell, you know that."

"Yeah, I guess," Light nudged his hips a few times in a very pleasant motion before sliding up the cool body he was sitting on.

L's body was always cool, always smooth and the water made it easier to move up the pale stomach until L's cock was squeezed between Lights' cheeks.

L groaned, and Light slid a bit higher so that L's head, already hard and sleek with hot pre-cum was teasingly nudging Light's tight hole that was already gently convulsing in anticipation.

L was right, sex was good.

L was always right.

"But then, before he went to hell," Light continued absently, reaching back and under to touch L's cock with his fingertips at the point where they were almost, almost about to join. He relaxed and pushed the round, searing head up into himself, only half an inch deep, enough to earn himself a groan from L. Then, before L could push his hips down and impale him, Light tightened his inner muscles and forced L out of himself and disrupted the perfect aim.

L dug his fingers into Light hips, and the familiar jagged nails cut into the old scratches made with the same jagged fingernails so long ago.

But L didn't force it, L didn't force anything, he just let Light do whatever Light wanted, and Light did.

To himself.

He relaxed into himself and traced the sensitive wrinkles around his hole, penetrated it with his middle finger, just a little and stretched the hot, dry insides. He closed his eyes and let out a long, relived sigh.

L probably realized what Light was doing because he was obviously doing _something_ back there.

"Are you touching yourself?" asked L, more surprised than aroused by his own question.

Light said nothing.

"I want to see," L demanded immediately when Light's silence confirmed his suspicion, and Light cracked one eye open to look at the man with wild black hair and black eyes narrowed in unattended pleasure.

"I want to know about Tartini."

"I will tell only if Raito-kun shows."

Light raised an eyebrow and leaned forward so that their naked chests pressed together and Light whispered into L's ear, "you want to watch me fuck myself inside? That's weird, even for you."

L pulled Light's wet hair so that his ear was now lined up with L's mouth.

"Raito-kun is masturbating with a wrong part of his body. Do not tell me what is weird."

Light shrugged and allowed L to roll them over. He wasn't planning on being watched. He was going to make it comfortable and ride L's stiff, large cock until it spilled inside, then, hopefully, repeat. He wasn't planning on L rolling them over, forcing him down on his back in that same old vanilla position and pulling his legs so far apart that the thin skin on his inner thighs that connected to his sack stretched when L pressed his thumbs into Light thighs and spread Light's cheeks open.

Light understood that he was free to resume his activates, and he did, and L watched, with aroused amusement playing across his face when Light traced the rim of his puckered pink hole with a fingertip, then two. Then he pulled the pink skin apart hard enough for the red, tender skin to become visible and when that skin felt cool air, his inner muscles contracted involuntarily, and a light spasm made L see Light's insides and nothing at all at the same moment.

L smiled and touched what Light was playing with gently, and then four fingers were pulling apart the sensitive outside skin, giving Light enough time to slide into himself with one thin, dry digit.

L watched as Light swallowed his finger whole, and when he was pulling it out, the pretty skin around held onto it. It looked very good. L wondered if he could come without even touching his own member. Light sure looked like he could manage.

And then, a hook. Just before he was empty, he hooked his finger still inside and added another one, hissed and _spread_, spread the two walls of his hole so far apart L could see the red flesh inside, the flesh that pleased L so much when that sensitive, dry and thin flesh clung to L's member.

Light looked _good_ like that.

He did.

And then he did it.

With three fingers longed into himself, Light spread them, spreading himself wide as he did it, and nevermind that L saw Light's kidneys; L saw blood.

Red, fresh, not too much, on the knuckle of the finger Light was fucking himself with. A considerable amount of blood characteristic of a rough stretch like that.

L gripped the hand and yanked it out, and Light snapped his eyes open and groaned angrily.

"Why is Raito-kun hurting himself again?!"

Light tried to say, "Either I do it or you do it, what's the difference!" but what came out sounded like a wail of disjointed syllables.

"Light I do not make you- not since-" _Oh, nevermind!,_ "you know what, we can talk about this later!" L fisted Light's neglected member, squeezed it around the base and traced the pulsating vein with the flat of his tongue. Light tasted bitter, like semen and soap, and L wondered if Light even realized how far beyond the point of no return Light was when the boy screamed as L scraped his teeth along the thick organ as he sucked the leaking tip.

"F-fuckkk- fuck me… ah! L in- inside, just fuck- haaa"

The organ twitched and the flow of precum became more rapid, but after a minute or so of L creating the most wonderful, hot and narrow friction with his hand, Light only screamed loudly and still didn't come.

This wasn't right.

"Fuck it L J-JUST PUT-T Y… y… y.. your dick AH! Inside! Can't … fuuu'n... c-come to a b-blowjobb fuck!!"

No, this wasn't right at all, but it was obvious Light just couldn't… couldn't release despite having everything work into his favor.

L tried massaging his sack and started doing something else, but Light screamed, kicked him away and missed, cried, and L would be crushing his wrists if Light fought any harder to slip a hand between his legs.

"PLEASE!" Light screamed, and L felt he had no choice. He didn't really have a problem with Light being mostly unprepared and bleeding, it was just a matter of… dignity, perhaps?

He left the matter alone and when Light realized he was getting it, he stopped fighting. L guided the tip of his own searing member to the convulsing hole that was practically begging for him to impale it, and forced his way in.

Light shouted and came before L even finished the penetration, and his orgasm was already over after a few full thrusts.

L found himself fucking the tight and dry passage with a little less pleasure than when Light was working with him to have an orgasm at the same time, and when Light come to his senses and started moving his body fluidly with soft gasps and not screams of pleasure, L came while pulling out, and his semen spilled on Light's cheeks and things, but mostly the sheet under him.

It took a few moments after the deaf blindness passed for L to realize he slumped onto the bed.

He lay on his side, and Light had already pressed his body to L's, but he was much lower than L's eyelevel, in fact he was hiding his face in L's chest, and a long leg was draped over L's.

Light was… hiding. In L's safety.

Both conclusions made less sense than they sounded sane.

"What was that?" L asked finally, finding it easy to to keep unease out of his voice.

"That was exactly what it was," Light said quietly, "I can't come without being fucked. That's it."

"Hmm. That is a psychological issue, Raito-kun." Light could most definitely come to a blowjob; L had already proven it. Well, Light could do it before, anyway. Things changed in four months, L supposed.

"Leave it alone."

L left it alone for the moment and absently played with Light's wet brown locks. Light never had a chance to fix his hair, he realized. In the four months, his natural black hair grew out from under the bleach treatment and was about an inch longer. All the new length was black starting from the roots, and all the real hair coming up from the scalp was like truth. It wasn't fake like Light, it wasn't prefect like Light, it wasn't lying to L like Light always was.

"Leave that alone, too. Talk."

The sun was up and it was around eight in the morning. The humid summer air was quickly drying the sweat and the shower water off their bodies, and L would turn on the air-conditioner when there was nothing to keep them cool anymore.

"About what, Raito-kun?"

"Tartini. What happened to him before he went to hell?"

L sighed and wondered about what happened to Tartini before he went to hell.

"You have no idea, do you?" Light purred into L's chest, still refusing to look up.

"No."

"Well," said Light," we have a combined IQ of four hundred in this room, we can figure it out. We know that Tartini met the Devil in a dream. We know he tried to recreate Devil's Trill. We know he never did. We know that he died sometime later. And then he went to hell."

"Hmm. I imagine he had breakfasts between failing his life's goal and going to hell. Would Raito-kun like some breakfast?"

"No Ryuzaki, I don't want any breakfast. Focus. If he tried and failed something so important to him many times, over and over and over, so he was definitely obsessed with perfecting Devil's Trill. If he was obsessed and failed, he was bound to become depressed."

L sighed.

"I understand that Raito-kun relates to Tartini, yes. I understands that Raito-kun, like everyone else, wants a story of someone so similar to him to be a happy one, or at least bearable, even if the end remains unchangeable. I understand."

"Really?"

L said yes, but he was already sensing the coolness in Light's voice, and the air in the room was already being charged with another argument.

"Well, it's getting more bearable with every day we do things together, _Ryuzaki_."

Light's voice was poisonous, and L was surprised that even after sex, even with his body curled safely into L's chest, Light could still have all this… hatred in him. L knew the sweet context of the sentence had nothing to do with its meaning, whatever Light meant by 'doing things together'.

So L asked, even if he didn't want to know, not really.

"What kinds of things, Raito-kun?"

"Hmm. Forced sex and killing people."

'Forced sex' was a slap in the face.

'Killing people' was a kick in the groin, the kind of kick that prevented L from even wanting to touch Light ever since they first reunited. Especially since the 'killing people' took so much mental chewing and spitting to get over.

'Killing people', which translated to Light doing the killing, was a subject he didn't want to breach, especially when Mello wasn't around. So L let the subject drop. Light didn't.

"What do you want, Raito-kun?"

Light ignored him.

"Tell me what you want, please."

But Light thought of his own thing.

"Fifty-eight people, hmm?" he said off-handedly and more to himself than to L.

L thought he understood.

He thought he understood before, but when Light mouthed the words and the number vibrated against L's chest, he understood that he didn't understand Light's will to go along with slaughtering a mall-full of people at all.

And it suddenly made him angry. Light was teasing him. Light knew something L didn't.

He yanked the boy by the hair to force him to look at him, and in response Light's thin pink lips paled, and the angry caramel eyes turned angrier still.

L reached out, perhaps too suddenly, because Light flinched away on reflex. But when all L did was touch Light's face, his hand was slapped and Light shook it off.

L leaped on top of the boy then, and forcefully grabbed the beautiful face between his hands and made the narrow caramel slits stare into his own. And oh, did Light stare. His pupils were dilated because of the lack of lighting in the room, and his eyes lost a few shades of their original color. His irises didn't glimmer.

If L only noticed this now, he wondered how long ago he had last seen a glimmer in Light's eyes. Ever since he got his hands on the boy in Tsuwano, he had never seen the healthy glimmer.

Only the dull, soulless eyes peered at him from Light's sockets.

L shook him, and a familiar grin crept up Light's face. That was what did it.

A slap.

"Do not be proud of something you weren't the first man to do."

The grin grew wider.

"It is nothing to grin over, either, Raito-kun. It was not even necessary. It was a _calamity_. A random, unmotivated calamity we all could have done without, it was not a brilliant plan by all standards."

"You _let_ me do it."

"I _let_ you do whatever you wanted; when I plan to murder fifty-eight people, I do it differently."

"Oh ho ho!"Light laughed than, it was the familiar barking laughter from all those days ago, "you're different? No my love, you are no different than any insane maniac!" And with laughter, the man L knew as Light Yagami tore out of L's grasp, stood up and circled L's bed much like a savage, naked coyote.

"Different?" he continued in the same loud and humorous tone, "you're just the same as a child with a large stick. The only difference between you and a spoiled brat is your inability to understand basic emotions, like guilt among other things. See, murderers feel guilt. You're no murderer because you don't even _understand_ the gravity of what you're doing. Instead, you're just a cheap thrill addict. A junkie. It's pathetic!"

"And you?"

"What, me? I'm your next fix. But you can't have me. You know what you let me do, and it's not going away."

"What?" L barked in the same amused half-laughter. "You honestly think taking the blood of fifty-eight people onto my hands will do any harm to a pathetic junkie? Alright! I as good as suffocated them all myself! Now what, Light? Now what?"

"Oh no! You didn't do this! I did. I committed an unmotivated crime. I killed fifty-eight innocent people and then some out of spite. And I don't feel a damn thing! Reminds you of anyone? It should. You never thought I would pull the trigger myself and you loved me for it. Well, I am just like you now. You can't have me because _I_ don't exist anymore. There's only two of _you_, two miserable, cheap thrill addicts."

L was about to shout, but Light cut in, still not done.

"And what do I want? I want justice. Justice for everything you did. Justice that makes bastards like you suffer. You will suffer because of me, my love. This is justice."

* * *

**A/N: I hereby declare this my 2nd best chapter. ;D**

**Review Thanks: IsobelAnis, Black-Dranzer-1119, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, BloodyShinigami, fan-fan31, leesoca, Cakeat, Miel et Cerise, Tai Anime, Huehuetecti, Keyinei, Jetta, eluvium, incandescentglow, My Favorite Crooked Smile, Your Alien, It Which Lives Under Your Bed, Sovoyita, Altair718, MockeryMash, hamaell, Talentless Freak, ellan54, Viciada desde 2005, ArtistOfLight, and rosalie!**

**I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!**

I HAZ NEW READERS YAAAY!

Note: update late because nobody reviewed 'till like, this week. D; NEED LOVE!

**Leesoca, yes you can cheer, it's for you. ;D**

**CH27: Asunder**

-

**No reviews = no chapter next week**

**Yes reviews = yes chapter next week**

If you want the CH27 on time,

you know what to do.

l

l

l

V


	27. Asunder

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, GO CANADA IN OLYMPICS YAYYAA, and I do not own Blood Brothers, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

**CH27**

**Asunder**

The cracked and trice-relined concrete of the road hastily repaired with miscolored patches that was long overdue for a highway expansion was losing its curvy turns and blocked pullouts. The concrete was fresher and cleaner the closer they got to the main city.

Before L realized there was no more roadkill and the last of dark concrete patches were behind the stolen BMW, the comfort bubble of an overpopulated metropolitan absorbed the car and its passengers, and silently, L breathed a sigh of relief and heard a similarly inaudible sigh of relief from his side.

But the highway continued, and before long the BMW joined a long and slow queue of early bird risers to pass a police roadblock right in the middle of the highway.

With windows rolled down but no more speed-generated wind blowing into them, the car became too hot and too stuffy in not too long, and before too long, Light complained.

L looked to his side where Light rested his face on his fist with the elbow of his arm balanced on the open window in with scandalously bored scowl on his face. The kind of scowl L had only seen in angsty pregnant women in Korean soap operas on TV.

L considered starting a conversation, or even a debate of sorts, that Light would probably not be interested in because Light insisted on maintaining his position in which anything said or done by L could _never_ in a million years interest Light; it was even _preposterous_ L _dared_ to consider himself entertaining.

L could see how Light saw L in himself; the idea of this... this childish silent treatment Light was giving him for no apparent reason was something L would do should he feel particularly unhappy with a long drive.

Pretending to be disinterested in Light's disinterest, L carefully and slowly slid his hand down the leather interior of the car door. His fingertips brushed over the cool metal buttons and delicate nubs and slid along the smooth curve of the sleek elbow rest until he found four dimples and their edges of the master window control.

Then he closed the window right on Light's resting elbow.

"Whoops," he declared after turning and bulging his eyes out in complete surprise and remorse that Light's elbow was so unfortunately positioned in the window.

Injured and unhappy, Light still rewarded L with a look that accepted L's unspoken apology and switched the up-beat classical rock station on the radio to this most atrocious gloomy and out of beat country music.

L agreed with Light's music choice and acknowledged this by tapping the gas pedal and letting the engine roar to the beat of the nonexistent rhythm of the melody as it went along while holding down the brake pedal.

They went at it for a while.

The car queue moved up slowly.

With tinted windows finally closed and the air-conditioning on, the cool, crisp air smelling faintly of melting silicone made L realize his spirits were higher than they had been in days. Feeling generous, L tossed Light a red blackberry cellphone.

"My technological ban has been lifted?" Light raised an eyebrow.

L told him he was on probation that depended on how Light handles checking L's e-mail.

"You have three unread e-mails. Want me to read them out for you?"

"I would like a Shakespearian reading of them, Raito-kun, please."

"Alright. You... you are a lucky beneficiary of a Nigerian inheritance in the sum of twenty-four million British Pounds, but you need to contact them with your social security and credit card information pretty soon or else someone else will claim it. Huh... L, you never told me you were Nigerian."

"I am pure-blooded Nigerian five generations down; I have a very pale complexion Raito-kun. Next message please?"

L swore a snicker passed Light's face for a moment, and L felt one creep up his face as well.

"The second e-mail. _'crime stoppers doesnt air in london i checked internet so im going 2 the states so i can c u on tv and laugh at u. enjoy prison food.'_

"Heartfelt," L proclaimed.

" '_ps: ur an asshole.' "_Light continued.

"Thank you for that."

" '_pps: i hate u.' _"

"Of course."

" '_ppps: ok i didnt mean any of that, ill c u in london. -m.' _a winking emoticon at the end of that," Light finished.

L didn't justify that with a reply.

"Next please."

Light opened the next e-mail and huffed.

"Seriously people, haven't you heard of basic grammar!"

"What is it?"

"It's titled_ '__freebottle get a blgger penls' _for God's sake!"

"Ah. That is from-"

"From Matt, yes I know, I got one myself."

"Oh?" L raised an eyebrow, "how terrible was it?"

"Terrible," Light looked like he swallowed his own vomit and grimaced once he opened the e-mail. "Oh _God_. Okay, it basically says that our car is now registered in the name of Ryuzaki Rue."

"That is not my Shakespearian reading, Raito-kun!"

"Oh _hell_ no, I am _not_ reading _that_."

"Raito-kun, please read."

"No! Why would he register our car to someone who's diseased?"

"Matt works in mysterious ways, Raito-kun."

"Whatever. That's your last message. Does your phone have Tetris?"

The car queue ahead of them was shortening at an incredibly slow phase.

"No, it does not have Tetirs. And Raito-kun?"

"What is it, Ryuzaki-san?"

L turned and looked at him.

"I am sorry."

Light rolled his eyes and looked for the Tetris application and probably found it.

"For what? And by that, I don't mean you didn't do anything. I mean, what atrocity you decided to apologize for this time around. Just so that I know you already apologized for it when you do it again."

"I am sorry about last morning."

"You swore you won't talk about that."

"For something else."

"For what?"

"For – and Raito-kun will _not_ start chortling like a gargoyle again as I say this – not kissing you at all when we had sex. Twice in a row, now."

Light though about it for a moment, recalled the sex and grinned.

"I don't care," said Light smugly, and L supposed he was silently glorifying himself.

Somehow letting Light win this one wasn't repulsive to L, considering L hated to lose even something as trivial as a half-argument argued for argument's sake. He didn't mind Light firing hurtful things because L didn't feel as affected by the things that were said as he was before.

And before, whenever Light did something outside of the box L had built around him, it bothered L and made him furious that the enormous box of morals and complicated personality and a brilliant mind could not contain everything Light was capable of.

Ever since last morning, the morning Light had shown L something so private that it was indecent, L realized what Light wanted – what he really wanted, and it ventured so far outside of the box that it circled around the world and came right back, and firmly clicked into its proper place.

And the fact that L finally understood made L content enough to do things he did when he wasn't stressed to the extreme.

For example, L returned to perching on every sittable surface, and even now as he was forced to have one foot down on the car pedals, he had his other leg brought up and rested against the driver's door.

He was also popping skittles all day.

In fact, the first thing he did when he got into the car was toss that nasty black liquorish out of the window.

It was too bad that Light understood this before L, but to be fair Light had four extra months of mulling over it while strapped to a hospital bed.

And so, L triumphed over Light's needs.

"Raito-kun cares that not kissing him properly bothers me. Allow for an explanation: I did not care for kissing Raito-kun, however now I realize how childish it was to purposely not kiss you."

When Light gave L a lustful, love-filled doe-eyed affectionate look of absolute adoration he probably used on women all the time, L threw a purple skittle at him, because L didn't mind wasting a purple skittle; L didn't like purple skittles.

Still, he appreciated the acted sarcasm.

"If a further explanation is an order, I did not want to kiss Raito-kun because I felt he was purposely hateful towards me. However now I realize that is how it has always been; it is just that lately Raito-kun is overly... expressive of this hatred."

"So I hate you?

"Yes," said L. "Raito-kun hates me plenty, enough to torment himself just to torment me as well. How such a selfless sacrifice," L paused, allowing the ping of monotone sarcasm to sink in, "is possible, I do not understand. What I do understand is this: I may love Raito-kun all I want, but his hatred for me will not disappear, not even lessen, ever, Raito-kun will hate me forever. I knew this all along, somehow my expectations of him became clouded when Raito-kun murdered people. "

"Oh, well," Light threw his arms in the air theatrically and huffed, "so you're not completely delusional. Well. Than stop trying to _fix_ it. It's annoying," his upper lip twitched in involuntary disgust. "It's like you actually believe you can fix this and make everything better. Only people of average intelligence may think this is fixable; we toasted to genii once, as in, _two_ of us. Including you. You know that what he got is beyond repair. I will always hate you. The end."

"Does the fact that you will always hate me make you happy?"

"What?"

"Does this make you happy, Raito-kun?"

Light considered it for a moment.

"Yeah, actually," he said in half-wonder. "It does."

"Well than, I have a feeling Raito-kun is completely unaware of a deal he and I made. I think knowing about this deal will make things much more simple for him. The deal was-"

"Seriously? Right. I believe you."

"Raito-kun will not interrupt me when I say important things! Raito-kun agreed to give up his life for my happiness. I have Raito-kun's life and I am not happy. Raito-kun is not in charge of his life anymore, yet he is happy that he makes me so unhappy."

Light's brows drew together as he tried remembering such a perfect deal, but it didn't look like anything came up.

"If Raito-kun does not remember, we can make the same deal again. His life for my happiness."

"So… you want to be unhappy with me," Light finally managed a few minutes after staring blankly into the space, still trying to recall the deal "and you will stay with me, and when you get bored again, you can kill me, and I wouldn't really... mind. As long as you are unhappy and I am with you, I have all that… all that I have _left_ to want, really. No," he concluded, "I don't want your deal."

But L knew he had him.

L also had a handful of yellow skittles.

"Hating me and making me unhappy does not have to hurt you more than necessary. Physically, at least, and mentally also. Yesterday, Raito-kun mentioned Tartini and Raito-kun was interested in what happened to Tartini before he died and went to hell. I am offering to show you."

"You're right. I want the deal. But I won't take it." Light didn't look away from the traffic ahead of them; he stared straight ahead as he always did when what he said was the truth, and L very recently realized Light hated the truth almost as much as he hated L.

"Why won't you?"

"...so you can fool yourself into blissful fantasy that you're growing onto me? Ha. Never."

"I am not delusional, Raito-kun."

"I got to shoot you because you were delusional, remember?"

"Blind love came and went."

"Oh? So that love was tangible? Show me this love, than."

"They cut it out of my chest and took it away in an organ bag."

"It's still mine, I want it," Light insisted.

"I never thought about what happened to it," L realized, "I suppose Mello stole it, and he most likely keeps it in a jar at his bedside table."

Caramel eyes glanced at L briefly and L swore he saw a tiny spark in them. Then L saw Light go for L's bag of skittles and it took effort to share, but instead Light pinched a red candy between his fingers and pressed it against L's lips.

Mystified, L allowed Light to feed him.

"That was funny," Light said and allowed his fingertips to linger on L's lips. For a moment, L considered spitting out the half-chewed skittle and putting it into a trophy cabinet.

"Fine. I'll take your stupid deal."

"I promise to be very unhappy," L assured him.

Light then stole another skittle and much to L's dismay put it into his own mouth, and when he realized L was pouting, Light rolled his eyes.

"What? You aren't going to take it from me?" He mouthed around the candy, never actually chewing it.

L wasn't sure, partially because the skittle Light took was purple.

The brunette leaned over the handrest and lightly brushed their noses together. There was no smile or playfulness dancing across his melancholy features, just longing for whatever it was that L promised him in-between meeting the devil and dying.

"Come on," he said quietly when their lips were hairs apart, and L leaned in. Light's mouth tasted like the bitterest coffee, toothpaste and the stolen purple skittle L didn't really want. He just wanted Lights' warm and damp mouth over his own, kissing L instead of saying awful things for once.

The progress was tiny.

But as small as it was and despite everything that was just said, despite the deal that was just made, L felt quite happy to sit quietly next to Light for the next half-hour until the checkpost cleared them through the highway.

Perhaps it was this tiny burst of happiness that he agreed to give up was what he ended up paying for with everything that followed.

The BMW passed the roadcheck without even having to stop; the officer waved L in and L finally passed the last checkpost he had to pass in Japan. He and Light were free.

It was over.

And then, through the rolled-down window, L locked eyes with Touta Matsuda.

Momentum passed.

The BMW swayed and curved and weightlessly weaseled between the light traffic of the highway. It sliced the heat and gave a pleasant splash of cool air to the passengers of the cars L sped past, taking out their side-mirrors as he drove.

The two police cruisers, heavy in their driving and doing much more damage with their sloppy racing talent, multiplied and slowed and then caught up again. Their sirens must have been defining, to Light at least, because the brunette held onto the seat under him and squinted in fear abandoning his fearless and righteous façade in favor of being scared. Something he should be.

L couldn't hear the sirens, all he could hear was the speed, and the adrenaline that made his own heartbeat pulsate against his eardrums. In the rearview mirror, he could see one of the persuading cars slam into a civilian Honda, or some other car, L didn't catch what the car was, and it swirled out of control and another police cruiser slammed into it.

The swift moment L paid attention to what was already behind cost him a barely avoided collision with a red covetable; L just barely managed to graze the covetable with Light's side of the car, and Light cried out and shielded his face with his hands all too-late because by the time he lifted his arms in protection, the red convertible was already far behind them.

The speedometer of the BMW was deep in the red and was reading 120 miles. The police were falling behind them, but this was something they did purposely to let unmarked police cars ahead to shoot.

There was a helicopter above L, informing L over megaphone they would open fire shortly, much to the probable dismay of the civilian drivers who at their regulated 80mph could do little but get out of L's way and crash into highway separators on either side of them.

They wouldn't shoot unless they had a shot, and the helicopter could not get low enough to snipe because of the telephone pools that stretched endless wires like a protective cage around the BMW, and L made sure to scrape by the civilian traffic just to make his point clear: they shouldn't even dare trying to shoot.

The speedometer needle dipped deeper into the red at 125mph. The top speed he could get out of it was 148, and with all the turning and snaking L considered going up to as high as 135 would be unlikely.

L could see ahead where two men were rushing across the highway to lay out road spikes, alas the traffic in the area they picked was heavier than they could stop or get by in ten seconds, and when L squeezed into the small gap still remaining between the highway separator and the spikes, he hit the man on the end of the strip. With the ridiculous speed the BMW could muster, the man must have been killed instantly, but it didn't stop his limp and bloody body for from smashing into the windshield, where his head cracked open like an egg and spilled onto the corner before falling away.

A snowflake-shaped crack the size of half of the windshield with blood and chunks and hairs caught right in the middle of it remained that way: cracked but still intact.

Unable to see for just a moment when the body was directly between L and L's view of the highway ahead made him lose the sense of where he was and with an improperly tuned violin screech amplified by thousands, L scraped the metal exterior against a concrete block heavily.

The friction slowed them down, if only by a little, and the speed dropped by 13 miles before he could regain control, but the silver unmarked police car that was responsible for this whole chase tore ahead of the hoard, it's passenger window opened and Matsuda leaned out with a gun and shot.

Matsuda wasn't aiming for the tires as per standard procedure, L realized because according to the file L read on Matsuda, the man had the best aim on force.

Matsuda was aiming for L's head.

L didn't hear the gunshot, at their speed nobody could, but he heard the puncture of the back window and saw a perfect hole half-way above the center of the snowflake crack. Three cars ahead of him, side by side and occupying all three lanes of the highway didn't get out of L's way fast enough, or L just didn't have enough control over the BMW, because Light's side suffered serious damage and Light hit his head against the glove compartment and fiddled with the seatbelt to finally buckle up long enough for L to realize Light was disoriented.

L's condition was not good either. Another few shots or a collision with another person, and the windshield would go, and the glass would be sharp and blinding and L would see nothing and imminently crash into something – L checked – at 135 miles per hour, head-on.

"Light," he shouted once, twice, trice, before Light realized L was talking to him, and speaking in English at that, and turned to look at L too confused to be too scared. "Get into the passenger seat behind me, buckle up and duck. Now."

Light obeyed without any hesitation, and the fact that he forgot he was strapped into his seat probably saved his life as another perfect bullet hole appeared dead in the center of the bloody snowflake.

"Wait!" L shouted again when Light was about to try for the back seat again. Light hadn't even noticed he was shot at. But he halted.

L saw a brake, a man – or a woman, on a neon green motorcycle ahead of them, and L pulled the lever to Neutral and used a handbrake to drift across the three highway lanes, leaving most of his tire rubber behind. Just when he was about it crash into the concrete separator, he turned and kicked his door open. It caused the rattled BMW to zig-zag across the empty road ahead, and the friction of the wind shut the door immediately, but the man, or the woman on the green bike was already splattered on the concrete road behind them, and her bike bounced like nothing but a small animal chucked harshly to the ground to its death.

It just barely missed Matsuda's pursuit car, but it went zig-zaging just when L regained control. Until his car was aligned, there would be no more shooting.

"Go now!" shouted L again and this time Light was successfully buckled up behind L's driver seat.

In truth, L would have tried harder if Light wasn't with him, if he was free to be shot at or to smash sides of the car into obstacle, he would have likely made it.

Even if the chopper was pulling up in the air, which meant they were clear to aim at L.

Even if there were no more cars ahead, which meant undamaged police cars with so-so racing abilities would have the advantage.

Risks.

And if L was to die again, for real this time, and Light was to survive, Light would not make it on his own.

So this meant that Light was-

"Light," L said hoping Light could hear him or even understand him at all, seeing as the blur of colors and lights and speed were all too soon too much for him, "Light-"

But faintly from somewhere behind him, L heard the most absurd thing.

Humming.

Not humming, but words. Lyrics even.

Light, singing at all, singing now, was absurd, singing, as the bare tires scared the pavement of the highway with rubber so hot and shredded the tires were melting right down to the rims, was absurd.

"…say it's just a show, on the radio,  
That we can turn over, and start again."

"That we can turn over, it's just a game," L finished for him in a prose reading instead of a croon.

It was absurd that both of them knew the lines.

Then L remembered.

_Did you ever hear the story of the Johnstone twins?  
As like each other as two new pins._

'_Well, I am just like you now.'_

_As like each other as two new pins._

If someone could tell L why, instead of turning into a patch of construction road and speeding into the city he did something else entirely, or why he knew he would do this when the first bullet pierced his broken windshield, L would pay a great amount of money to know.

Instead, he missed the turn to the likely surprise of the persuading police who were almost expecting him to take the turn.

He knew what he was doing, and he knew what he was doing was ultimately safer.

And so with the road ahead clear, L crossed the three lanes to the right, made sure the back passenger seatbelt sign was on, haphazardly buckled in his own and...

...at 139 miles per hour, L slammed the brake pedal and pulled the handbrake as well.

The BMW screeched and skid and protested, it bucked and drifted left performing a perfect 180 U-turn on its own, flipping over twice in a perfect grand allegro, then the aluminum shreds and the broken metal skeleton surfed over the highway separator for fifteen feet before coming to a rattling arrest.

When it did, there was virtually nothing remaining of the right side of the car but a faint structural remainder of what should have been there.

Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.

To people, L and Light were gods in their own ways.

L was the angel of death, the devil, to anyone including Light, and in his own time the Devil had brought glorious legions together to fight the War in Heaven, and so the Devil fell from heaven.

Light climbed all the way to the top of the tower of Babel as Kira, and had fallen from it quickly, much like Tartini fell from heaven.

And still, both of them were closer to being gods than most men had ever.

What L once said to Light, when their hatred for each other still felt alien unnatural, now became true for both of them.

Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.

"_But as God, you have fallen. Who have you to turn to if you are the fallen God?"_

_

* * *

_

The separation of the two boys was immediate.

With tinted windows of the BMW, Touta Matsuda never saw Light in the vehicle at all; as far as he was concerned only the man cleared of being a murderer only because of his alleged death was present in that car.

He shot with no hesitation.

When the vehicle crashed and L, barely conscious and severely injured was dragged out of the car, he was immediately accused of being L because Matsuda radioed the entire police force all about it.

The arresting officers never waited for the ambulance; they shoved L into the barred back of a police cruiser and drove around for hours, with L slowly bleeding to his death, hoping L would just die while they took the longest route to the hospital.

L did not die, instead he remained at the bridge of consciousness and comprehension until the officers had no choice but to take him into a medical care facility or risk their badges.

It took a few minutes for the police to realize that L wasn't the only person in the obliterated BMW, and it was also Matsuda who noticed blood slowly dripping from the crushed passenger door.

Light was given aid immediately, first by police, then by one of the many ambulances that already had their hands full with a long strip of highway full of dead and injured people.

Light was bleeding heavily because of a torn vein, and by the time he was given a blood transfusion, he had lost a critical amount of blood.

But he made it, and woke up six days later with lots of broken bones in the same hospital L was brought to and kept at under heavy guard.

Despite remaining conscious, it turned out L was in a much worse condition than Light.

Other than one broken leg, L had a grade 3 concussion, the most severe possible.

He had an inoperable blood pocket in his brain that was eventually thinned out and taken care of.

He had extensive hippocampal damage.

On the first day of admission, L remained conscious and could not hold onto a memory for more than a few minutes; every few minutes he realized he did not know where he was or how he got there, and so he asked the four police guards stationed around him, thousands of times, where he was, and how he got there.

Two days after admission his memory span began to increase until it became continuous.

He had at least half-a dozen concussive seizures.

His head injury was so severe that for the first few days the doctors feared, or rather hoped, L would go into a vegetative state. As the chances of him becoming brain-dead shrunk, so did the hopes of his memories ever returning to him.

When five days after ending up in a hospital and nowhere near the mark at which he could be legally discharged and taken to prison, L was deemed fit to have his bail hearing in his hospital room.

A temporary lawyer managed get L no bail, but that didn't seem to matter to L, or to anyone in that room at all for that matter.

There was something else much more notable about L's make-shift bail hearing.

When L was asked if he had committed a certain number of homicides that was so high even the judge raised her eyebrows as she read it out loud, L couldn't answer.

He did not believe such a thing was even possible.

When he was left alone with a pair of handcuffs attached to his wrist and the bed, and four guards, L asked the man who was most civil to him something he wished he could answer himself.

"Did I really do that?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, somebody has to know," L quietly wondered out-loud. "They are charging me with something they have reasons to believe they know, otherwise they wouldn't be charging me with it."

The guard, who was already having trouble remaining unbiased because he did not for a second believe that this kid was L, the great L, was about to say something about L being a smart-ass, when the door burst open and in came a tall man with black hair and thick glasses.

His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, and his face had a permanent frown that made him appear to be either serous to the bone, or constipated.

After him trailed the judge who left the room just minutes ago, and behind the judge came the prosecuting lawyer who was more than slightly intimidated by L's presence.

"-my client was already denied his rights to medical attention, he will not be denied a proper bail hearing."

Then, he turned to L.

"My name is Teru Mikami and I'm your new lawyer Rue-san, it's an honor to represent you."

L and the Judge and prosecuting lawyer and all four officers looked at Teru Mikami as if what he said classified him as delusional.

"Now-now, Mikami-san, we all know this man had fooled a major police operation formed against himself into thinking he was Ryuzaki Rue, surely you don't mean to try recycling that notion."

"On the contrary your honor, here is a registration of the car Rue-san was driving. The vehicle is registered to Ryuzaki Rue. Here is a serial number run of Rue-san's artificial heart transplant: it is registered to Ryuzaki Rue."

"You forget, Mikami-san, Ryuzaki Rue is dead," said the prosecuting lawyer coyly while hiding behind one of the large guards.

"And here is a transcript of a deposit made into Ryuzaki Rue's autopsy technician's bank account from one of Rue-san's offshore bank accounts. Your honor, this man here is a coward. He dug a hole and hid in it to prevent the real L from getting to him. Coward he may be, but a serial murderer?"

In the end, Teru Mikami managed to get L a bail, which was thirty-five million dollars. To L, it felt about the same as having no bail at all.

When everyone but Teru Mikami and the four guards left for good, L finally dared to speak.

"So I am not L?"

"No sir, you are not," said Mikami and L was more than happy to accept this answer.

At this point of his stay in the hospital, it didn't really matter to L just who the hell he really was as long as he wasn't that man who killed all those people. So he didn't bother asking who he really was.

"What happened to me?" he asked instead, hoping Mikami had even more answers for him.

"In short, you were funding a police investigation of L, and got a too involved, both with the case and the son of the police chief who was the only witness. With assistance of some unauthorized FBI agents, he was led to believe you were L, and he shot you. You paid off a lot of people to fake your own death so you could hide from the real L, who was a part of the investigation. When you realized chief's son was released from the hospital and was kidnapped by L, you set off to find him. I don't know what happened next, but you found him and you were on your way to a police station when you were suddenly chased by an off-duty officer. There were many accidents. Two man-slaughter charges."

"I saved somebody?"

Suddenly, not only did L not kill people in bulk, he actually saved somebody.

"Yes. He is recovering at this very hospital."

"That's a nice story Mikami," said the prosecuting lawyer from L's doorway and L realized he was becoming annoyed with people going away only to come back moment later, "but this man is L, he kidnapped that poor kid himself and he was running away with him."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," L also realized he did not like his prosecuting lawyer's non-formal tone. "Because guess what. Yagami just woke up; he'll tell you just who kidnapped him, huh?"

"Who is Yagami?"

"The chief's son, Rue-san. Your boyfriend."

"My- what?" L looked himself over to make sure he was not a woman.

He wasn't.

"I suppose we just have to see what he says," said Teru without losing his perfect constipated poker face.

And so, L's last beckon of hope was Light's account of the events.

But unlike L who really didn't know what has true and what wasn't, and unlike Teru Mikami who had much to gain from defending a huge case like L's, Light had absolutely no reason to lie.

It didn't matter with which version of the events he went, in either one he was a helpless victim, and L, whoever L was, was a vicious killer and a rapist.

The only difference in the decisions were their consequences: if Light told the truth, he was going to do the fair and just world a favor and cleanse the Earth of an atrocious man he hated with his whole existence once and for all, for good this time.

So it was obvious just what Light was going to tell the police.

* * *

**L: **if I had a cookie for every time Miss King references Blood Brothers…!

**Light: **If I had enough ink to write one name for every time _you_ asked for a cookie every time someone did something!

**THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO: **

**ArtistOfLight, whose birthday it is today, **and **Leesoca who really wanted me to use the word Asunder. **And considering I was eyeing the marriage thing anyway, it was a perfect place to use it. xD

**THANK YOUSSSS AND I LOVE YOUSSS: Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, Midori Heiwa, Vulpes velox, Anemone Kurosaki, ghost, Huehuetechim IsobelAnis, Jetta, Keyinei, fan-fan31, eluivum, terracannon876, eine Dichte von Seelen, Axel138, merichuel, Ophelia's rosemary, eihei, unheardcries , Altair718, ellan54, Cakeat, ArtistOfLight, s3v3n-d34d1135, irotelveonurarms, iRoteLveOnUrArms, **and** My Favorite Crooked Smile!!!**

**THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING (and reading lol)**

**Want the next chapter next week? Yeah. Review. **

**CH28: The Last Supper**

Will L be handed over to Texas so he is eligible for death penalty?

What of that happy ending?

_Also, I'm curious. When and how did you find this story? D;_

l

l

l

V


	28. The Last Supper

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I eat my Ikea hotdogs with Ikea ice-cream on them, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

**CH28**

**The Last Supper**

Light was caught.

Red-handed. And it only took Ryuzaki, what, eight weeks to catch him?

"I was checking to see if your keyhole was clogged," he said. "It seems to be a problem in the hospital lately. I volunteered to help out. But yours seems fine, I better go."

And with poise, Light turned on his heels and proceeded crouch over the keyhole of the broom closet adjacent to Ryuzaki's room. He inspected it thoroughly for added effect.

"You are Raito-san, correct?"

And Ryuzaki was L.

"'Raito'? I've heard of him. He's in the trauma wing, isn't he? No, I'm Haruka from the psych ward. But don't tell anyone that, I'm not supposed to be out without a nightpass."

From his position on the floor with his back to L, Light could hear the rustle of L's paper dress as the man shifted his weight from one foot to another in an awkward pause.

"I have been trying to talk to Raito-kun for months, but he would not see me."

"That's too bad, huh? What is he to you, your sweetheart or something?"

"I know you are Raito-san," said L in that even baritone voice of his Light always found to be the first thing to get on his nerves about the man. "I have seen your picture."

Light wasn't sure how much his current state matched any picture L could have seen of him.

The last of his casts was a left arm cast, slung like a great white purse over his shoulder, so stark-clean and white that anyone with a pen handy had always offered to sign it, somehow seeing it an achievement to be the first to sign a fresh cast.

In truth, the cast was to be removed later this afternoon. He had it for nine or so weeks, and hadn't let a single person touch it with a pen.

His hair had grown out a few times, black roots peeking from auburn hair treatment, and Light easily convinced police floaters (that came to visit him in impressive numbers) to take him to a hair salon in exchange for pieces of new information he suddenly remembered, all of which turned out to be useless in the end, but only after his hair was fixed.

He heard the rustling of L's paper dress again and soft pattering of bare feet against the hospital linoleum reached the distance of three or so feet away from him, then stopped in their tracks.

L was standing there, behind him, looking silly in his paper dress, slouching, with wide eyes and tight fists.

_Did he want to fight or what?_

Without using his hands to help him up, partially because of the cast, partially because if he was to use the only hand he had for leverage he would have had nothing to defend himself with, Light and sized L up for whatever the stupid man had in mind-

L took two quick steps back, short and soft.

Light raised an eyebrow.

"I am not very comfortable with this," L cleared his throat through his stone-dead poker face, and Light had no idea what he was on about.

He was too busy looking L over. The poker face. Light never counted L's large eyes a part of the man's poker face, never. L's eyes, not narrowed into black liquid slits when L was seriously pissed off, were as cute as a baby bird's, and plenty innocent. All a lie, of course, but L's eyes were never the ones to tell the stories. It was the slightest twitch of his lips and nose, the tiniest of wrinkles between the eyebrows Light imagined were in there somewhere.

Still, without thinking too much about it, L looked awkward, valuable and adorable.

Like he normally did.

It was hard to believe that-

"How comfortable should you be when there is a man checking your keyhole at five in the morning when you had two crazies trying to assassinate you with a plastic ruler and fireworks?"

-that this man, virtually identical to the man Light knew, was not the same.

For one, L had no idea who the hell he bloody was.

"On the note of assassinations," short, sweet and straight to the point, "I was surprised at how easily I disarmed them. Is... is Raito-san sure I am not-"

"You're not L. Yes, I'm sure. Ask me again though and I just might say something the surveillance cameras they got on you don't really need to know at all."

L had been trying to talk to Light for eight weeks to ask this exact question.

He nodded in satisfaction.

This was why after making bail of thirty-five million dollars and being guard-free but still confined to the hospital with severe head injuries, L heard (through rumors of course because Light wouldn't see or speak to him) that Light Yagami refused to check out of the hospital after he was deemed healthy enough to go home.

So L paid off the hospital to let Light stay, thinking the gesture of kindness would be repaid with a conversation privilege.

Light, of course, happily stayed.

And still refused to see L.

Though he had made a habit of sneaking around L's room in the middle of the night, hoping to hear L mutter something in his sleep, something that would convince Light the whole amnesia scenario was a scam.

Nothing of this sort happened, other than L looking and acting exactly the way he did when he remembered himself.

For one, in these eight weeks sneaking around, Light never caught L sleep. The gravity of this made their first meeting back in Tsuwano after four months of L's coma when Light caught L passed out on the bed that wasn't his after a nervous breakdown... it made catching L asleep kind of special.

"I will not ask again," L assured him hastily.

"Good."

"…" L stared at him.

"I better go. Keyholes and everything." Light turned to leave, and half-way down the hall the soft pattering of the bare feet fallowed him in a mild jog.

"Raito-san!"

L caught up but kept his distance good three feet away.

"What?"

"Raito-san has mentioned he likes truffles, would he perhaps care to-"

"I did mention any truffles."

L didn't miss a beat.

"Oh? My bad, but it is ill-mannered to withdraw an invitation. I realized last night I have more truffles than I can possibly eat mys- "

"I hate truffles, Ryuzaki."

L looked at him then, in a long, pointed and wondrous stare. Slowly, as if recovering from a mighty blow to the groin, Ryuzaki tired again.

"I also have English Tort-"

"I hate sweets."

L blinked and his mouth fell open slightly, but he found himself speechless. Carefully, he took a cautious step back.

When words came to him, he said the only thing on his mind,

"Raito-san... are you positive that you and… _you_ and I actually… dated?"

The question was so serious and absurd at once that Light couldn't help but let out a short laugh, otherwise he would have choked on it.

"No Ryuzaki. We never dated. We just," _fucked_, "fooled around."

"…ah."

"Is this all?"

"No," said L firmly despite the defensive distance between them he had created. "I... also have... coffee?"

He paused, to see if Light would defile another vital food item such as coffee. When no 'I hate coffee' comment came and Light just patiently stood there, waiting for L to finish, L proceeded to test the waters further.

"I also have coffee," he said, firmly this time. "It has no sugar so it is not sweet. It is… black coffee? Yes. Black coffee, no sugar. No cream, either. It is the most _awfu_- ah, pardon me. It is the most… _bitter_ coffee in the whole hospital."

"And?"

"And it is not decaffeinated," said L definitively.

"And where is this wonderful coffee, Ryuzaki?"

"It is in my room. Would Raito-san join me for some early-morning coffee?"

"I would love to join you for some early-morning coffee," said Light and smiled the sweetest of the smiles he had in his disposal.

L gave a short, curt nod and turned on the balls of his feet and pattered back where he came from, expecting Light to follow him.

Light did.

L's private room was a bit more spacious than Light's, but that was about it. White, sterile, except the hundreds of candy packets and boxes and wrappers littering the room like crumbs on the tabletop. Light had no idea how L managed to sneak this stuff in there, but knowing L who apparently had all his habits in tact, L bribed the nurses.

"I apologize for the mess," said L, not sounding apologetic in the least. He stopped then and tasted his own words, as if suddenly realizing that he didn't sound sorry just as much as he wasn't sorry.

Light took the opportunity to sit very casually on L's bed as if it was his own while L was figuring out his own lying patterns.

He had to admit, this was amusing; L was already staring at him disapprovingly for taking a place that was not his. Light pretended he noticed no such stare and folded his legs under himself, still in slippers.

L said nothing on the subject, though he did not sit down next to Light, and Light never bothered fooling himself into thinking it was because L was afraid of people now as nearly all 'people' who came to visit him must have been interrogation officers. No, L would not sit next to _Light_.

Instead, L slouched a few feet away from the bed.

"I apologize for the mess," he repeated, as indifferent to his own apology as he was before. "I was given hospital jello and I realized I loved sweets. But perhaps I went a little overboard with... this. I am not sure. It certainly does not look normal, does it?"

Light didn't hear any uncertainty or dread or an actual need for answer in that question, but he liked to think he had the basics of L's speech patterns down. The only reason L would ask a pointed rhetorical question was to hint that he was in fact feeling these things and needing an answer.

So naturally, Light considered leaving L hanging and saying nothing. Instead, he humored him.

"No, the candy thing is not normal for any regular human being, but then again you were always quite a bit special."

"Hmm, I see. I take it Raito-san is very angry at me. I would like to find out why."

"No, not really," Light said offhandedly and patted a spot on the bed next to him. "You can come closer, you know. I am not an interrogation officer," he hinted, just enough to let L know Light knew interrogation officers had nothing to do with L keeping his distance.

L did nothing.

"Than I would like to find out why Raito-san keeps insulting me. And no, thank you. I prefer standing where I am."

"I scare you, don't I?" Light smiled slyly and even more so when he realized L absolutely hated his smiles. Every single one of them.

"Yes."

"Is it because you were waiting so long for the only person who would take your side, the only person who had answers – real answers about just who the hell Ryuzaki Rue is, and then you realized somebody like me has them?"

"You disturb me, I confess but-"

"Ah, so I should just cut to the chase since you seem to have a very subdued impression of me. You see, Ryuzaki, I can tell you lies and lies only, about yourself and about everything that you are, and you won't even know it. Not something you wanted to hear this early into our meeting, is it?"

The words spilled from Light's mouth like honey, the alluring and poisonous kind. It was way over the line of any cool teasing he would usually do, he knew this. But this was not 'usually', and he savored it to the last syllable.

L pursed his lips together and stared, and L's wide and black eyes were slowly narrowing into alarming liquid-black slits he thought of earlier.

"Oh don't do _that_," Light sighed in mock surrender, covering up fake concern on his face with a fake reassuring half-smile. "It's fine. Come here."

He stretched out a hand for L to take.

"That expression Raito-san has," L said, "it disturbs me more than anything so far."

"Hah, you could always tell, I guess," Light shrugged and fanned the fingers of his hand.

After a little more hesitation, L took it, firmly.

What if Light had been that way?

So clueless, so vulnerable, so utterly out of options?

When things had a miniscule chance, however small, to still go well, for both of them, when the whole world didn't know L was L, when Light still had strands of sanity to hang on to, when their world was easy and had so few penalties compared to what they had to face now, at that point L was the one stretching out his hand for Light to grab.

Back at the construction site, four floors above ground, when SWAT teams were on their tails and Light had tricked L to take off his bulletproof west so that he could shoot him. Back then, L offered a way to stop this, to stop all of it; "_just take my hand, don't jump_, something cheesy, something else," were about the exact words L was saying.

It had never occurred to Light then to actually take L's hand.

The idea of it was just so ridiculous at the time, with his scam going so _ridiculously_ perfect that he just had one last detail left to do, a detail that had to do with putting a bullet in L's heart, and he had done it with a glee.

Hell, even if he could somehow place himself as he was now to that scene, he would not have taken L's hand. There would have been nothing in it for him.

Now that he knew what was ahead, now that they were holding hands much like they could have back then, Light wondered what would have happened if he had taken L's hand and stepped away from the edge, away from the fall and back into L's greedy arms.

If he never pulled out the gun, never aimed it, never squeezed the trigger hard enough... the trigger was so hard to squeeze, though now it sounded completely stupid and could not have lasted more than a fraction of a second, he had struggled with that trigger. The thing wouldn't budge, or maybe his fingers weren't strong enough, or maybe it got stuck, but a thought crossed Light's mind that maybe, just maybe, the gun was broken and would not fire.

He felt something then. In that fraction of a fraction of a second, he felt something.

And then it was gone.

And then the gun went off.

And it was the last real thing Light had felt.

Ever since then, everything was black and white. Satisfaction and dissatisfaction. Boredom. A strive for satisfaction.

_What if? _

_What if he dropped the gun, hesitated a little and grabbed L's hand. L would have pulled him in, and Light would have been still and pale for a minute or so and then he would have screamed. Screamed and cried, cried hysterically for his own sanity and his own identity that he had almost lost. _

_And Mello would have sprinted in, and ran right out because Reye Penber and his SWAT team would have been right behind him. There would have been no explosion, a lot of people would have been still alive. _

_Because as Light had found out later L had somehow managed to scramble his own confession on Misora's recording, FBI would have eventually fucked off. _

_And because of the way Light was, shattered into pieces but healing, because he would have still had the ability to heal, he would have healed around L and somehow convinced himself that L's confession was something L had said just to get Light to calm down. _

_And then he would have trusted L again. And things would have been peaceful and happy and light, and one day when Light had least suspected it, L would have gotten bored of being a sitting duck and grabbed him and kidnapped him, and took him away, and forced him to confront the reality, and betrayed him on so many levels –_

At this point, Light was holding onto L's hand for a little too long, and L's paper dress began to rustle awkwardly again.

They were back at the hospital.

L's cold and smooth hand warmed up a little in Light's, or maybe it was just Light's skin getting used to the cool contact. Suddenly, it felt like a metal rod and Light had been just electrocuted. It was like the sharp, tingling sensation washing over his limp limbs when he tried to move a leg that had fallen asleep, except that it was his hand, and his fingers curved around L's soft palm and his thumb was brushing his knuckles.

Suddenly, he wanted to drop it.

To take back ever offering it.

But then…

As suddenly as images of what could have been flooded his mind, new pictures of what 'could be' started flashing though his head.

This moment, right then and there... it was a blank page, he realized. A fresh, clean roll of long fax paper he could let Ryuzaki – his gullible (and a little adorable, even) Ryuzaki to fill in with purple crayon scribbles.

It was a chance to start completely over.

They could work this out. L could be Ryuzaki Rue, and Light could be Light, and they could be okay. Together even, quite possibly happy.

And all it would take is something that Light did best: a few sweet lies, here and there. Nobody would ever know, and he sure as hell won't feel any empathy or guilt over telling them…

L's knuckles gave a light spasm when his fingers twitched lightly.

They were frozen in the moment.

Light met L's eyes, L's black and round eyes, staring right back into Light's. L's eyes mimicked pitch-black empty sockets quite well, except that at times like this, when L was vulnerable and childish and completely in love with candy, his eyes looked very soft around the edges. When L was like this – and the last time he was like this was a very long time ago – Light knew that nothing in the world was wrong, other than perhaps Light slipping up and losing L's trust.

A chance.

Light allowed his fingertips trace a fold across L's palm one last time before suddenly clutching L's wrist and yanking him down to his own eyelevel across four feet of space.

When L stumbled forward and was about to fall onto Light, Light caught the collar of his paper dress. It twisted around L's neck and Light ended up holding him up from the back, like holding a cat by its skin. The dress ripped but Light jerked him away so that his ear grazed Light's bottom lip and hot breath bounced off of it.

"You have no choice but to trust me, _my love_. So trust me; when the lights are off and cameras are not looking, you never know if I may be right there behind you, watching '_over'_ you. Or even with the cameras on, you never know what I might be saying. Distrust is, oh... so dangerous, isn't it?"

And then he bit L's ear and slid out from under him and walked out of the room, slowly and casually, like nothing had happened, leaving L to stare after him with narrowed liquid-black stare, pressing a palm to his bleeding ear.

* * *

"Let it come to you, son. Is that really what happened?" said yet another man whose son Light wasn't. Instead, the man was a bulky street cop Light was supposedly friendly with that one time. Perhaps friendly enough to give an accurate account of events that would settle things once and for all..?

That was the general hope, anyway. Eight weeks of telling them the exact same thing were apparently not enough, it seemed.

But this time Light said, "I'm not sure. Maybe I missed some details, I don't know. I'm feeling a little lightheaded."

"Would you like something to eat?"

A few minutes later, Light was handed a bag of potato chips which was quickly becoming a remedy for his spontaneous lightheadedness. Because officers who came to interview him had all the time in the world to make the trip across the hall and buy him some, Light took full advantage of them.

"You know, now that I thought about it," said Light as he popped the bag of junkfood open, "yep, I'm pretty sure I told you everything. Exactly how it happened. Thanks for the chips though."

Light's hospital room was becoming a sort of place where random people were short of setting up camping tents and living in, because as soon as Light chose to be difficult, some unhappy officer always said something unhappy.

"I say screw this, guys. We can get a court order for a lie detector test, let's see how the little shit weasels out of that one."

Little shit?

How hurtful and unprofessional, Light wasn't aware that his story of 'L made me do it and then Ryuzaki came and saved me' was that unbelievable.

Well maybe he _was_ completely aware, but nobody could do anything about it, and so with amusement in his face rather than fear of the almighty lie detector test, Light looked at the man, than at another man, than at another man who happened to be his lawyer.

His lawyer said, "of course. Yagami-san's testimony on lie detector test would be completely valid in court, considering Yagami-san did a student lecture in ToOh on _How to Fool a Lie Detector Test_. The judge would _love_ it!"

Thing was, Light's 'lawyer' was Aiber, and Light saw Aiber with Wedy at the train station when L first took Light to Tsuwano, and Wedy was with Matt when Matt decided to beat Light up on his birthday, and Matt was with Mello, and Mello was with L.

But Light humored Aiber and pretended he had no idea.

As soon as the uninvited people left, Light went up to the nineteenth floor of the hospital where L was kept.

Well, not kept exactly.

Ryuzaki made bail, so technically he was there out of his own free will and a doctor's strong advice.

Right.

Light passed at least a dozen hidden cameras in the first five feet of the hallway of the empty hospital floor, save the hospital staff.

"Good afternoon, _officer_!" Light said cheerfully to a butch male 'nurse'. The man just grunted and went on with his business.

But they let him pass, even unblocked L's floor on the elevator for him every time Light took a trip there. The guards weren't too happy with Light's imaginary VIP pass, but were under the orders to encourage him to come; an accidental conversation slip, a cryptic plan to escape, anything that would help the police revoke L's bail or get a clue to just what the hell was going on was badly needed, and so in high hopes they let him through.

So naturally, Light took full advantage of it and spied on L like a ten-year old boy with a crush on the neighbor's daughter.

Now though, having outgrown his spying phase, he spitefully invited himself into L's room without as much as knocking.

"Hello you!" he said brightly again with a slight dance-like spring in his step, "stop sulking, we have to talk."

From his spot of half-sitting up in his bed and watching cartoons on TV, L followed Light across the room with his eyes.

He was still wearing the same paper dress he wore at five in the morning, and with his legs drawn up to his chest with a jar of gummy worms delicately balanced on his knee, L would flash Light something quite inappropriate if Light was to come around his bed.

Which Light was doing, so modestly but swiftly L swiped the jar from his kneecap and pulled a blanket over his legs.

It was a demonstration that no, he was not intimidated with Light circling him like a scavenger.

"Oh, don't be shy now. I've seen it already; better yet I _know_ where it's supposed to go."

"I suggest Raito-san tells me what he came to tell me quickly."

"Okay. Do you realize," Light quipped; he was in a great mood, about this mostly, "that there is a war going on over you?"

"A war?"

"Yeah, a war. There is an army of lawyers petitioning UN to release you into the custody of the States. There is a battalion of Japanese lawyers trying to keep you in Japan. Their weapons are their hurtful words, but their resources are drying up quickly. There is not enough paper in the world to support the amount of paperwork they're throwing at each other," Light finished dramatically, "it's hilarious."

It was pretty obvious L holed up in his room and watched cartoons for weeks.

"Who is winning?"

"I don't know, who cares about that? There's good stuff in it. America is _convinced_ your judge and the investigating police have received enormous bribes and will declare you Ryuzaki Rue and innocent despite all the imaginary evidence USA thinks we are hiding from the world."

"That sounds like a petty conspiracy theory I would certainly _dream_ of coming true, Raito-san."

"Not quite. Apparently, there's a papertrail so long that nobody has ever found it. And there's more. It's even better!" Light purposely lowered his voice into a loud, mocking whisper, "and don't tell the people that are watching us through that camera over there," he pointed, exaggerating his movements, "but apparently the FBI thinks you will be transferred from this hospital soon, and you will be mysteriously 'lost' during this transfer."

"'Lost'… as in, murdered?"

"No. Set free."

"'Set free'?"

"Given to aliens. The psychotic variety; the ones that need your skill and knowledge to exterminate the good Christian world."

"America thinks this?"

"Yup."

"Who told you this?"

"A zebra."

L nodded.

"Raito-san is bipolar."

Both of these were actual legitimate conspiracy theories. They have been floating around the internet for weeks and the media was getting tired of reporting the days in L's case on which absolutely nothing happened but another lawyerly spat. L's face as all over the news for far too long for anyone not to know at least one or two ridiculous theories.

None of it mattered, anyway, the only ones who was getting anything out of this were the people who started these rumors for nothing but their own personal amusement.

Still though, listening to cops theorize about it for days on end was the most there was to do at the hospital.

L however, still looking completely unfazed with Light's imposing presence in his room was expecting more than a few old conspiracy theories from a country that had a talent for making them.

"There is more!"

"Yes?" L said pointedly.

"Apparently America isn't the only one with conspiracy theories floating around. We got our very own one. Here, in this land of Tokyo General Hospital."

"Raito-san really is bipolar!"

"Right, so apparently, the hospital is expecting a heist. Like a siege."

"They have been expecting one for a while," L droned, suddenly bored.

"This one they caught on the mafia whispers, or terrorist whispers. Apparently it's the real thing. Someone's coming."

"Hmm," L thought outland, "Yes, it would explain the sudden increase of the rather large male nurses stationed on my floor."

"Haha!" Light laughed cheerfully. "Oh, don't look at me like that! It's the most exciting thing to happen here in weeks..! I don't know about you, but I'm bored out of my mind. Anyway. L, or that other L in case you're the real L, is coming to get you. Either to rescue you, or to kill you. Not sure."

"Wonderful," L said grimly. "Should I beware of people who look like me? I am still very confused on the whole matter, and nobody would explain it to me with proper sense in it."

"No, beware of the people in SWAT uniforms."

"Persons wearing SWAT uniforms are usually friendly."

"Not really. Fake SWAT teams are L's favorite. Disorients people for long enough to shoot them, you know? Oh wait. You don't know. You don't remember. I completely forgot," said Light and suddenly his quipping tone didn't sound so light and carefree at all.

L did not look like he particularly cared about the risk of being killed or broken out, but he still asked for the dates the supposed 'heist' was supposed to happen.

"Tomorrow, I think."

As far as the joke went, the police actually believed it and were expecting the heist very seriously. So seriously in fact that Light himself had taken the joke out of the context of a joke and into the realm of a serious possibility, and came to L to warn him.

But perhaps he made it sound too light and silly for L's own good, because L either knew about the possible heist, or didn't care.

The later was rather unnerving.

"Well?"

"Raito-san means now that he told me this, he will be 'well' on his way?"

"I mean, 'well, let me see you cry and hide under that table.' Aren't you worried?"

"No."

"You don't believe it then?"

"It is a realistic possibility. And," and Ryuzaki chewed down a gummy worm until there was nothing left of its elongated pink body, "I am not worried about it."

Light wondered why the hell not the man did not appear to be confident that the heist would be successful, he just… completely did not care about it at all. His interests lay in the cartoon channel Light was blocking with his body. The idea of L getting killed or moved or arrested or put in danger did not disturb L; the prospect of the future-

"Ryuzaki. Can you imagine the future?"

L thought.

"Yes. And unfortunately enough, Raito-san is in it."

Oh.

Oh, well then.

That certainly changed things.

Light marched to the edge of L's too-small bed and plopped onto it, and L crawled away from him when Light used his blanketed knees as a support for his shoulder to lean in.

"That was an insult," L droned dryly, "not an invitation into my bed."

"I'm always invited into your bed," Light noted and pulled his feet off the ground to fold them under himself on L's bed and against L's leg, if only to demonstrate to L that Light was the one wearing pants, figuratively and literally.

Light wore gray sweatpants that were rolled up around the middle of his calf.

Something told L Light did not normally dress this sloppily.

His hair and skin were too flawless to allow for such a thing.

"Then I shall be rather impolite and withdraw this invitation. I do not appreciate Raito-san's presence anywhere near me, and I do not care if he really is bipolar or just acting apologetic for being rude earlier."

"Still sulking?"

"Very much." L said and ignored his presence and watched Patrick Star do something stupid on the TV.

"Try daytime soaps," Light suggested. "It's something you should realize you really like before you end up getting killed tomorrow."

Finally, that hit the spot and L huffed his anger out, turned off the cartoons and threw the remote against the wall.

And glared without being too pissed off, and it ended up quite adorable.

"Listen, _you_. What do _you_ want from me. There is nothing _you_ can possibly gain from being excessively vulgar, but there are privileges _you_ lost for being this way; coming into my room and bothering me at will is one of the privileges I could have otherwise tolerated, but I refuse to now. So what do _you_ want? Go away."

If Light was trying to act special among everybody else who were either afraid of him or sucked up to him so he could give them money, talking to L like he was dirt was overplaying it. It was ridiculously stupid, too, and L doubted Light was stupid enough to try this.

"Leave it to Ryuzaki to make 'you' sound like a curse word."

"Do not stray. Either tell or leave."

"Tell... tell you why I'm so mean to poor amnesiac Ryuzaki?" Light made a very sad face, and L grimaced at it. "I'm 'mean' to you because that's exactly the way I was before you rammed us into a concrete wall, and I don't feel like being considerate; your amnesia will not change our relationship into a sweet love thing, just like it won't remove the L charges. Fair enough?"

L meant '_absolutely __not, I shall remain childish and ignorant about this'_ with the way he refused to move at all.

Then he realized Light read that silent reply and replied with his own. And much to his dismay, L could understand that Light meant _'well then. I'll remain stubborn and childish as well, just to spite you.'_

Which left them at a very dense impasse at which Light was willing to give in as much as L was willing to give in, which was not at all, ever.

But then Light saw something and nearly jumped, and L turned to see if some unholy thing crawled from under his bed. There was nothing.

It left L confused.

"What the hell is that!"

L followed Light's stare and realized that Light was looking at the violin on the lower shelf of L's bedside table.

"It is a violin. It is the only personal item they found at the crash-"

"No, Ryuzaki. I know what it is. What the hell are you doing with it! Don't you know what this thing _is_?"

"As a matter of fact I do not, Raito-san," said L coolly, and then added, "…is this yours?"

"No, no it's-... No," Light said without any further explanation, without dropping his gaze from the violin.

"So Raito-san knows about this violin. Raito-san can tell me why I was carrying it around, then."

Impasse forgotten or put off until a much more suitable time, L pushed for the information. The violin was important to him. It was a piece of information he deserved to find out, or else he would have endured the rain of insults for nothing.

"It... it was your violin," Light said and finally looked away from it and slumped onto L's pillows next to him, folding his arms across his chest.

His auburn hair scattered on the pillow and L looked at him from above. Light looked up at him in return and they watched each other for a short while. Some hairs got caught on Light's pink lips and his lashes were long and he blinked them slowly, lazily.

Light Yagami was beautiful, L decided, and they looked at each other upside-down for a short moment it took L to realize Light was battering his eyelashes purposely to look especially appealing.

So L looked away.

"Yes, I got that far without you, Raito-san. Do I play violin?"

"How should I know."

"Raito-san seems to know much about it, but he would not tell me."

"Fine," Light sighed. "I gave the violin to you. I sent it… in mail. I don't know what you did with it. Right after you got it, I- I went away with L."

"Ah," said L and after he gave it a polite pause, he continued, "why did you give it to me?"

"Because I hated you. Just drop it. I didn't even know you still had it."

"So Raito-san gave it to me, but what?"

"But I expected you to throw it away. It was a bad thing, it means something bad. Just toss it out."

"Raito-kun," L said firmly and coolly, suddenly looking at him from above again, "I have been to my own house here in Kanto. It was a castle. I was told I had many more like it. There was absolutely nothing personal in that house. I have some white furniture. And a lot of carpet. Nothing else, nothing at all. Not even a single book. I tried to access the only computer in there; it verified my fingerprints but would not let me in without the password. I do not know the password. Twenty seconds after I verified my identity by could not enter the password, the computer _exploded_, and I wish I was exaggerating. That violin is the only shred that proves to me I existed beyond the white furniture and the carpet. I am not throwing _my_ violin away."

A few moments have passed in awkward silence, until Light broke it with a soft chuckle. Suddenly, he did not look as appealing anymore, and L, who had attempted to ignore the insults and the attitude Light was giving him, wanted to ask Light to go away.

"I always knew your cowardly paranoia would backfire."

"This is not funny."

"No, it's not." Light agreed. "And the irony is, I can tell you 'I told you so' for the rest of your life, and it wouldn't antagonize you in the least because you just wouldn't know if I ever actually 'told you so' or not."

"Alright, Raito-san. This is enough. Please leave."

From his lazy stretch across L's pillows, Light reached a hand up at him and touched L's face absently. His cheek was cool and smooth as porcelain, and just as pale. He let his fingertip trail to L's mouth and brush against the lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Please leave," L repeated cruelly.

Instead, Light tucked a few strands behind L's ear only to have them fall again.

"Get out."

A few black hairs got caught up in Light's fingernails, so he gently pulled them out with his thumb and left them to fall freely and join the rest of L's messy head. The bags under L's eyes were impossibly dark and Light wondered how many nights L had spend awake, staring at that violin.

L didn't say anything else, he nearly crushed Light's wrist when he grabbed it and dragged him out of his bed, hurled his body across the room, opened the door and threw him out of his room.

* * *

**Friday is the scheduled update 'till the end. Rewritten and done. My God, kinda almost there (chapter number edited out, if you've seen it, you came early XD;) chapters to go if I decide to skip the prologue. **

**Light: **Do not trust her.

**L: **Quite a warning, coming from Raito-san.

**Light: **No, seriously. Don't trust her. In the middle of cheering for Canada in the Olympics, our dearest Miss King--

**A/N: **Oh no _you wouldn't dare..!_

**L: **You tell on her!

**Light: --**our dearest Miss King switched, and started to cheer for Russia for absolutely no reason. None at all. She just _clicked_, changed her mind, and betrayed her own country for an absolutely _random_ country.

**Matsuda:** It like, came outta nowhere.

**Fink:** And when Canada kicked some Russian ass in hockey, she started cheering for every country that wasn't Canada...

**Light:** Who the hell are you?

**Fink:** ...and I watched the hockey game with her, and let me tell you, blah you're not Russian you wannabe, blah Canada hockey blah hockey blah, blah blaah Canada blah, bla blaaaaah, traaaaiiiiitooooor blah!!

**Light:** ...

**Matsuda:** ...

**L:** ...just write his name, Raito-kun.

**Review shoutouts and HUGE THANKS****: terracannon876, Sovoyita, Jetta, Huehuetecti, Black-Dranzer-1119, ArtistOfLight, iRotelveOnurArms, Cakeat, Vulpex velox, Midori Heiwa, s3v3n-d34d1135, Anemone Kurosaki, merichuel, Warratah, Your Alien, MockeryMash, Keyinei, ellan54, axel138, Poruchik, Altair718,My Favorite Crooked Smile, rexascape, SugarCoatedGenius, fouloldron, Aliniatte, ., Behan, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, PaperMasque, Hime, monki, fan-fan31, YourBestFriend4, Myself and The Other Voices, Dragonfly and Invader Oceana!!! **

**Love, appreciation and ice-cream.**

**CH29: ****The Helen of Sparta**

**Tell me what you think DT will end with.**

I still love hearing theories, too.

**Review please, and tell me how much I suck for holding the chapter for like, five weeks. D:**

l

l

l

V


	29. The Helen of Sparta

_**Disclaimer: **__Hi, I completely forgot how I normally format disclaimers, so like, I don't own DeathNote. And stuff… Oh, and I'm King._

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

**CH29**

**The Helen of Sparta**

"I demand to leave here!"

But they would not let him no matter what reasons L have them or what he tried to bribe them with. In the end, he spun on his heels and marched down the empty hallway of his hospital floor and slammed the door of his private room only to be greeted by the privacy of eight surveillance cameras and god-knows how many listening bugs.

The least they could have done for him was to hide them better.

The least they could have done for him in terms of not letting him out was to give him reasons better than 'the elevators are down and the stairs are not working.'

He paid very good bail money he didn't even know he had for _privacy_ and ability to be _let out_, especially since he wasn't even going further than hospital staff lounge where the doctors and nurses kept a large stock of sugarcubes.

Yes, L's blissful oblivion to his own situation was absolute.

He did not like to think or talk too much about just what he was awaiting trial for. He did not reveal any concern to the therapist over the consequences of being who the world thought he was, and he did not appear to have any.

He did not seem to care who he was and where his investigation was going, and what would happen should Matt slip up and the police ended up finding somebody who would confirm that L was not in fact Ryuzaki Rue.

Or worry if Mello's plan to break L out in plain sight straight out of his first court hearing in a few months failed and Mello's head too would end up on the chopping block.

Partially because he did not know any of these people.

But mostly because he figured that if he was in fact L, something of that sort this was bound to happen sooner or later. He just didn't know how or when or who would do it, so he didn't let it bother him.

And the more sweets he could consume before this kind or worst-case scenario happened the better, and currently they would not let him have his sugarcubes.

So he kept things simple and demanded large quantities of random sweets, and frankly the hospital scare of a whole team of murderers breaking him out today, or on any other random day was ridiculous and unsound, and L realized he had the luxury of calling anything he pleased ridiculous and unsound because he was in fact ridiculously intelligent, and had quite an ego because of it.

Whether his inflated ego was a temporary post-amnesiac thing or not, he didn't know and frankly didn't care, and rather enjoyed calling things 'ridiculous' and 'unsound' with an inarguable certainty.

And currently, his ego was bleeding because they would not let him out to steal sugarcubes.

And because what to L were major concerns were actually very minor, with the whole world watching his face on the morning, afternoon and night news shows and wondering why he wasn't in jail, and hating him, and wishing him dead, and seriously considering doing away with him themselves, L was deemed a psychopath by nearly every real doctor and real nurse in the hospital, and evidentially none of these people had any psychology training.

L asked his therapist for a psychology book and looked up the definition of a psychopath, and mentally laughed at the entire hospital when he realized they had a real psychopath (who wasn't L) in the hospital, and had no idea. L then wondered if he had known about the whole situation before he lost his memories.

And then he had an idea and walked out of his room only to see a large male nurse coming from the stairs that 'weren't working'.

He strode quickly towards the man who had no choice but to walk one way, and that was L's way. When L was well within the man's personal space bubble and they were about to bump into each other, L stopped abruptly and looked up at the face of a man who was about a head taller than him. The man was slightly taken aback by L's forwardness.

"I demand to see my boyfriend," L droned to the male nurse who was only two inches away from him.

"You may not leave, sir. The stairs are not working."

"The stairs are working perfectly if it is to _enter_ this floor as you have just demonstrated, correct? I demand my boyfriend comes to me."

"Yagami-kun had refused to see you for weeks, sir-"

"If you must know," L insisted smugly "Raito-_chan _came to me yesterday. He will see me, just bring him."

L knew for a fact that once a large male nurse entered his floor, they would not leave for a minimum of six hours, never mind going somewhere and bringing someone.

"You may call him to confirm," L said.

A few minutes of looking for the appropriate number, the man dialed Light.

Light, of course refused to see L and told the male nurse to tell L he would not see him until Ryuzaki apologized for throwing him out.

L said to the male nurse to tell Light he would only apologize if Raito-_chan _apologized for being rude to him.

Light told the male nurse to tell L that L should stop sulking and grow some male dignity.

L suggested to the male nurse that for as far as he knew, Light was the one to talk about male dignity as he liked to take it from behind.

Light told the male nurse that L was the one taking it from behind and added convincing graphic description to the statement.

The guard got fed up with this quickly and said some words L would have rather not repeated.

"I apologize to the officer-san... I mean, nurse-san. Just let me speak to Raito-san, I will apologize for saying things to him as well-"

"You're banned from communicating with anyone at this hospital you freak, he won't see you just get over it-"

"Than please tell him-"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" the officer shouted and dangled the phone in front of L's face, "five seconds, and don't even think about asking him to do something for you or to bring something to you!" and the man shoved the cellphone at L.

L grabbed it and leaped back a few steps, just out of the male nurse's reach.

"Hello Raito-san, I hope you are having a great day,-please-go-to-the-doctor's-lounge_and-bringme-sugarcub—_"

The man took the phone away from L, shouted at him, and gave him the cold treatment until he was off duty, which L thought was rather rude.

He went back to his room and tightened it up in a way he was sure Light would not appreciate; he sprinkled empty candy wrappers on his bed so that Light wouldn't dare to sit on it again, he pulled his violin out of the bedside table and displayed marvelously in the centre of the room as if it was a massive ornament, and dumped about a cup-full of loose sugar into the coffee pot of the coffeemaker his lawyer had given to him.

When done with this, he circled his room, looked out of the window, watched some cartoons and bothered some guards playing dress-up as large male nurses.

It had been three hours since L made the male nurse make a phonecall and Light still hadn't shown up. L was beginning to worry he had given Light too much credit and Light got caught stealing sugarcubes for him.

It started to drizzle outside; it was the light mid-afternoon August drizzle that spat on the glass of L's window. The weather was bright, fresh crisp and promising sunny days ahead, which was a complete joke. There will be a thunderstorm in three days; the weather channel said so.

Lazily and almost sulking, L dragged his feet to the window and climbed the windowsill. His paperdress rode up when he pulled his feet up and pressed his side to the glass, but he didn't care much. His window was too high up for anyone to really see anything, and the coldness of the glass felt so nice against the side of his leg that he pressed his cheek to it as well, leaning against the fragile window completely.

The sheet of glass he had leaned his full weight against was thin, and it made an unhappy sound when L tried to get even more comfortable.

_It could break_, he supposed.

Right about now would have been a good time for Light to show up and tell him something nasty about miracles of a carcrash being a one-time thing and how nineteen floors down would definitely kill him.

But Light didn't show up, and L sat on the windowsill pressed against the cool, smooth glass with his bare skin and paper fabric, not really waiting for anything.

Light had taken just enough time for L to almost lose the last of his patience, give up completely and march down the hallway to the male nurses again and demand to be let out.

And then, behold! L heard his door open. But not just open in any way, no. The way his door opened was _obnoxious_.

It was Light.

L turned and looked.

In his hand, Light had a box sugarcubes!

L hopped off the windowsill immediately and half-hopped towards the sugarcubes and Light because his leg fell asleep.

And then he saw it, Light opened the box!

_He wouldn't dare!_

The brunette took out a subarcube and… placed it on the edge of L's bedside table.

It took less than a second for L to snatch it and pop it in his mouth.

"How do you know I didn't soak it in arsenic?" Light said skeptically, placing another treat to replace the eaten one.

That one too didn't last a second.

"Do not worry, Raito-san," L said while his teeth crushed the sugarcube, "whatever you may have done to it, nothing can make sugar taste less than divine."

Light pinched a third cube and placed it on the dedicated sacrificial spot.

It was like it was never there.

"What has taken Raito-san five whole hours?"

"I took a nap. And then walked 19 flights of stairs."

It had occurred to L to look Light over then; something he should have done three sugarcubes ago.

Light wore a white silk pajama set and some hideous slippers. The white pajamas looked good on him, much better than that sweat-pants and T-shirt thing Light wore the first time L had ever seen him. It was like Light's slender frame was made for high-end formal and sophisticated clothing; it just made him look very, very good.

And his cast was off; something L noticed immediately but didn't care enough to acknowledge. The last of Light's casts was off, though Light didn't seem to want to put any unnecessary effort into the freshly-healed arm.

L stared at the empty table insinuating another lump of sugar, and got it.

"So sugarcubes are your today's thing," Light observed and L wondered what he meant by that.

"Oh, your moods," said Light when he saw this, "you get random day-cravings. Then you move on. Today you like sugarcubes. Maybe tomorrow, too. Then you'll get bored of it and crave Croquembouche. Good luck getting that at a hospital."

L damned Light to the deepest pits of hell for making him really want to know what Croquembouche tasted like.

A pleasant train of thought washed over L; suddenly he found himself wondering just how many feathery creampuffs and smooth banana splits and chewy apple turnovers and spice cakes and pecan pies and chocolate éclairs existed in the world and what each of them would feel like on his tongue and at the back of his teeth. And how lovely they all looked, glossed in sugar or sprinkled with nuts or painted with fluffy clouds of cream, and alongside the dozens of delicious desserts he imagined and couldn't quite put names on he realized he thought of Light, in those pure-white and pearly silk pajamas he wore, and what Light would taste like.

Maybe the thought danced across his face for a moment, because L was sure he had done nothing to provoke Light; Light took one of L's sugarcubes, toyed with it between the tips of his fingers and delicately pushed it past his own lips.

L stared as Light crunched on his sugarcube.

Light was expecting something.

And then when both pieces of information related to each other and clicked together, L felt like a truck full of bricks had hit him in the gut.

Light smelled nice.

Light had taken a shower very recently.

Light was wearing a very nice set of pajamas.

Light's pajamas had a few top buttons undone.

L felt his eyes go wider than normal and his jaw stopped chewing the sugarcube; this was-- and Light was--and he ate L's sugar because he wanted him to--

L leaped three feet back like the ground he was standing on suddenly unholy. He even held up his hands and held out both of his palms in a 'stop' indicator, creating an imaginary wall infront of himself.

"Oh _no_," L said, and it was all he said as he took another three quick steps back.

"What?" said Light like the whole situation was the most normal thing in the world.

"_No_," said L.

Light paused as he analyzed the change in the situation. Then he slapped the box he was holding onto the table like he forgot he ever had it, and sat down at the edge of L's bed crossing his legs.

"Okay," he said with full intention of trying to understand what the hell was going on through L's head, "talk to me. What's wrong?"

L said nothing, he just shook his head still looking bewildered.

"Alright, so you're actually scared of me," Light spoke again, and then sensing L's dislike of the comment, quickly added, "and I'm not attacking that."

"Not scared," said L firmly, "uneasy. Raito-san can understand why, he has been extremely cruel for as long as I have know him-"

"That's adorable."

L passed his turn to speak again.

"It is, really. I mean it, it's adorable. Now get over here," he patted his own knee.

"Now get _out_, Raito-san," L corrected.

"Why is it," Light started, playing with a strand of his hair, "that every time we try to have sex either I don't want to do it, or you don't want to do it, and we end up doing it anyway?"

L found the question to be a rhetorical one and decided against replying to it in favor of asking Light to leave again, but Light beat him to it.

"I'm not leaving, you know. Not until we at least talk about this."

"Raito-san is rude, hateful and very inconsiderate; whatever possesses him to think I will let him have sex with me after this is beyond logic, so I think it is best that he leaves."

L stared at him, and Light's lovely brown eyes burned holes in the back of L's retinas. L found himself comparing Light's eyes to caramel; bright, pearly and very rich in color.

Yes, Light was beyond any doubt a very beautiful and attractive person, and L wondered just what kind of relationship they had, for L to supposedly tolerate Light's vicious behavior.

L had already known he himself had very low morals, so paying for somebody as lovely as Light Yagami to be with him did not seem like something he wouldn't do; perhaps this was the actual case. But whatever they had, if this was the case, or if it was any other case L could think of, Light had no right to behave the way he did.

And L saw no problem in replacing Light Yagami with another pretty person if it came down to it.

And the whole situation confused him, it did. Light seemed to be under an impression that L would not dump him.

But Light's stare despite its intensity did not feel aggressive, or angry at being rejected, it was rather firm.

And L was taken aback even more when Light stood up and straightened out his back and stomped not towards the door, but to L. Quickly, firmly, much like L did earlier to daunt the guard.

So L stood his ground as Light stomped towards him and invaded L's personal space so that there was nothing but an inch of air between their bodies, and they were almost nose to nose, except that slouching, L was shorter.

To straighten out his back and meet Light on eyelevel would have been the same as admitting that Light successfully intimidated him, if only slightly, so L remained slouched, refusing to acknowledge the fact.

They were so close that he could feel Light's steady breath playing with his hair.

He refused to back down, refused, but his left foot thought otherwise and almost accidentally it slid back an inch and L ended up leaning away.

He wasn't going anywhere, in fact he was about to regain the lost ground, but Light grabbed his shoulders and L had almost hit him than. But Light did nothing. He just stood there, well within L's personal space bubble, holding him by the shoulders with their faces just an inch apart.

The grip on his shoulders was firm and in no way physically restricting. Still, L did not like being held like that. On some intimate level, it felt like he was being held down, and he wanted Light to let him go.

But he also didn't want to hit him for the sake of etiquette, and if Light was going to try to actually jump him, L would use this as a chance to test out his own strength, a paper dress with nothing underneath or not, since strength of character had evidentially failed him.

Then, the firm grip tightened for a moment before going completely lax, and L had a fist ready and should have used it, it was just that, the kiss Light had given him was just a peck on the lips.

"I'm an awful person, but so are you. You don't deserve any different. And I never really thought you might have wanted anything else."

Light made a very good point then; one L had not expected Light to make.

Then L rationally thought the consequences of accepting sex. Realistically, there weren't any, at all. Although L was tempted to ask Light if he had diseases just to insult him.

He wondered if this was Light's attempt at making peace. According to him, their relationship was 'fooling around,' and if sex was what the relationship was built upon, the lack of it could have been what pulled them so far apart.

L's face must have betrayed something again, because Light let go of his shoulders, took him by the wrist and led him towards the general direction of the bed, and L cautiously allowed this.

"Alright, now that that's settled, I got," and Light pulled out a long stripe of square packets out of his pocket, "condoms, they're flavored. Lotion. We could use both, either or neither. Up to you, I don't really care."

L did not know how to respond to that.

"And you know, I guess I could tell you that I was the one on top and take advantage of you. But we've never done it that way before, and I could really mess it up, and at this stage doing that is... an awfully stupid idea."

If Light as much as suggested something like that, L would have had him hurled out of the room. No way in-

"And there's another thing, and you taught me this one. Stop thinking. Or else it gets awkward."

L kept thinking until Light flattened him to the bed with his warm silk-clad body and L became lost in his strategically-used cherry shampoo. Light's skin tasted like soy-milk and smelled of something L really liked but could not put a name on.

Light's waist was smooth and the softness of the skin he found under those silky pajamas made the tiny hairs at the back of L's neck stand up with excitement.

In the matter of minutes, Light became more appealing than large quantities of Croquembouche.

Once the time for rolling around the small bed and palming things through clothes came to an end and L found himself playing with the edge of the back of Light's pajama bottoms, L displayed some final courtesy.

"Raito-san… cameras?"

Light grinned at him playfully, and L realized the tension between them was gone as soon as Light straddled him.

"Shy, Ryuzaki?"

"Raito-san's father is a police officer. He may be watching us, and in case he is not, other people Raito-san knows may be watching us."

Light licked his lips and showed his white teeth to L, turned to the nearest camera and waved at it, even blew it a strawberry.

The intentional voyeurism added a whole new exiting aspect to it, and L rolled them over once again, pulled Light's pants down to find no underwear, and started kissing the toned belly.

Light's half-aroused member ended up rubbing against L's chest, and instead of grasping it, L squeezed Light's cheeks and probed his entrance carefully.

Straight to the point.

Somewhere above him, Light gasped, and L snatched the tube of lubricant form the table Light had left it at, and did his thing. Light nudged him with his foot; he was aroused, but a little bit bored.

But L had sweet revenge in mind.

The lubricant tube was slick, thin, made of smooth plastic and had a rounded tip. Beneath him, Light's soft gasps broke out unwillingly as L stretched him out, and the area had proven to be something Light found enjoyable at any rate.

Just to spite Light and make him uncomfortable enough that Light would know this was revenge, L put the tube at his entrance and carefully push against it. He fished for a reaction, and when Light realized L's fingers weren't nearly as cold and thick as the lotion tube, he jerked against it and hissed.

Inside of him, not deep enough to even pass his inner ring of muscle, it felt foreign, unwelcome. Light didn't know if he liked the idea of it or not, but L was gentle with it as it went inside. Although if L intended to start fucking him with it, Light would definitely kill him.

And then his eyes shot open and he arched his back because it filled him – filled him from the inside with cool and slippery lotion; it was like when L came inside of him, except there was no burning, no heat, no friction, just the slick, cold fullness. He fucking emptied the whole tube... oh, he was _so_ dead.

L tossed the empty tube to the floor, and Light felt the lubricant leaking down his cheeks when L replaced his fingers and started doing him with them.

"W-well, fuck you t-too," Light hissed and made a sexy show of ripping a flavored condom packet open with his teeth and licking the wrapper.

He forced L to roll over and straddled him again, and L's dress was riding up and Light made a point to tease L's engorged cock with his opening – just tease it enough to make the excessive lubricant drip on L's member, and it twitched against him, begging for entrance.

L grabbed his hips, and Light ground them together as he pulled his shirt off and flung it somewhere. Through eyes squinted in pleasure, L didn't miss a chance to appreciate Light's body. It had a light tan, light tone, both adding his body beautiful softness. His creamy long legs were wrapped around L, straddling him, his member stood against his lower belly, fully erect. His small, pink nipples were erect too, small and perky without any help, and L reached out to play with one. Glistening beads of sweat everywhere, a heated flush on the cheeks, sweaty and messy auburn hair, caramel eyes, narrowed and melted in pleasure. Light's head was lifted backwards and his lips were quivering.

Light slipped a condom between them and rolled it quickly around L's member.

And right after this, L's whole body suddenly became stiff and cramped and the insane tightness around his member made him shout an "ah!", and then everything became a continuous wave of tight, wet and sleek pleasure.

Light rode him painfully for both of them, and with every sweaty smack of their bodies, L's blunt fingernails dug into Light's hips closer to the bone.

It was good.

Light tilted his chin back and licked his lips before raising his impaled hole off L's engorged member at a curved angle so that the hot and pulsating thing inside of him twisted and yanked at his insides as he ground his sack against L's lower stomach.

L groaned under him, but it was all he did, perhaps somehow thinking that forcing himself right back into the tight and convulsing passage would hurt Light more than this did.

Light was ridiculously sore –sore inside, where his stretched-out muscles felt raw and damp from the ridiculous amount of lubrication, and sore in his knees and things as he slid L out of himself and back up.

He wouldn't go faster, out of principles really, because every little jerk of L's member against his inner walls, every unsatisfied groan, every bruise on his hips, all of it was arousing him more than L's hand on his cock did.

With a loud and hoarse breath, Light pushed against L's throbbing erection and right before the round tip slipped out of him, he caught it again and allowed it to glide back inside slowly and smoothly. It took painful effort to keep himself so open that L's thick and hard length could slide into him so freely, and he could make it last just enough for the large tip to get past his ring of muscles before he had to relax and cling to L's sex so hard that he could feel L's rapid heartbeat inside of himself.

L was large, there wasn't much he could do about that but keep pushing the man into himself.

L's throbbing length filled him out so completely that his passage wouldn't be able to handle anything even remotely larger; with every thrust, every time it penetrated him, the sensitive folds around his tiny hole stretched out unbelievably around L, and his whole inside passage became completely filled out to accommodate the intrusion.

And it always hurt, God did it always hurt. So wonderfully. The friction, subdued considerably by the lubrication, was not much of a factor because it never mattered how fast L slammed into him.

It was always the delicious burn of his insides, impaled and stretched out around L's twitching member.

It was the overwhelming feeling of hot semen being spilled deep inside of him which made his insides even more tight and overfilled with _pressure_.

L groaned, Light gasped and willed his sore, tired muscles to constrict, making it unbelievably tight for L.

L screwed his eyes shut and tried to pull himself out of Light faster so he could slam back inside.

_Poor you, stuffed into such a tiny place. _

_Oh, poor you. _

_Bastard. _

Light ignored him and repeated the curved angle.

His passage clung to L and refused to let go, even as L's length was becoming bare and Light empty.

"D'do.. w-we alwa- aaaha-"

_Do we always do it like this?_

_No. _

_You completely gave up on making me feel good in favor of some stupid make-up sex that really sucks. And it's boring. _

_And lately, you don't even bother with lubricant. _

_Or talking. _

_Or pretending that things are okay. _

_I like pretending, I like rough sex, I like lubricant, though this was definitely an overkill. _

_I like talking during sex, because you know how to fuck me so throughway that I can't talk and I end up just screaming disjointed syllables and cursing. _

_I like screaming and cursing. _

_But we don't do that anymore. _

Instead of saying this, or any part of it, Light arched his back and sucked in air, accidentally using his vocal cords and moaning.

Precum was dripping freely off his standing member, and Light lost the track of L what L did, and before he realized L had rolled a condom onto his member and pumped him quickly.

He screamed the longest thread of broken curses he had ever as when he came and L grabbed his hips and rammed into him and Light rode out his orgasm while his prostate was being viciously attacked. It felt like it would never end, even if it took only a few more hectic trusts and a few more bad words.

Ready to collapse, Light gasped when L came too, but it was almost dissatisfying and quite different when he wasn't filled with a hot stream of semen that shot him deep inside, but with a warm mass, and the smooth friction was lulling.

When Light's clenched muscles finally let go and his legs relaxed too, he started falling, and before he cared enough to catch himself, L had already slipped out of him accidentally. And L caught him and slowly lowered him down.

Then, in complete serenity he watched as L fussed and made a disgusted noise as he slipped off the used and full condom, and Light observed L use his typical delicate pinching of objects as he picked them up _appropriately_ for the first time. It was dripping, and L dropped it into the flower vase.

Than Light nearly smacked him when L carefully rolled Light condom straight off his softening member, and it dropped into the flowers with a soft splat once it hit the water.

Who in the world would give L flowers?

They rolled away from each other as far as the small bed would allow, their sides still stuck together, and he could feel L's quick heartbeat, and Light half-expected L to try and have another go.

And he was going to let him.

"Raito-san, please put your clothes back on," L said suddenly and owlishly as soon as he climbed over Light and was about to do what looked like kissing.

Knowing L, this was a rhetorical order done only for Light to ask "why" so L could answer it with a dreadful pick-up line, which Light would find typical enough to soften up in L's arms – is was basically an invitation to have sex.

Light mentally laughed at L as he threw the man off himself and went to gather his clothes. L went rolling than crashing off the bed and into the metal bedside table, and some of the condoms and candy wrappers he had left there flew off and fell on L's head as an added insult.

"Okay," he said and snickered with his back to L.

He was covered in sticky sweat and lubricant and remainders of semen were still all over him, but he slipped into his pajamas like it really didn't bother him when it _really_ did.

L climbed from the floor to his bed and pretended to look like this was exactly what he wanted and he was not frustrated Light had the gall to actually put his clothed back on.

Light grabbed the thrown remote from the floor on his way to join L.

They settled, silently, although the unspoken angry air and the smell of sex settled over them in a cloud. Light turned on the TV and went straight for the action channel where, surely enough, somebody was shooting somebody else's helicopter from a water-ski with an arbalest.

They looked at the screen and the scene behind it as it progressed.

It, and the whole situation, it all was just so... ridiculous. Light was the first one to stiff out a long giggle that just refused to go away, and L snorted, too.

Light gave and yanked at a particularly knotted strand of the black hair hard enough for L's whole head to follow, and kissed the top of it before it recoiled.

"Oww," said L. "And Raito-san?"

"Yeah?"

"That was wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Light said with self-satisfied softness in his voice.

The helicopter on the TV finally went out of control after the pilot realized he never received any training in helicopter piloting. He jumped out, successfully using the tarp as parachute, and the helicopter exploded for no apparent reason.

"Hey, Ryuzaki. Can you fly a helicopter?"

"I would not know."

Light rolled his eyes and switched the channel TV off, and stared at L in absolute criticism. Right after Light asked a completely irrelevant and playful question, L's energy turned into a sluggish sulk once he realized Light was still a (possibly) bipolar (definitely) bastard, and L still could not remember his favorite food. Even after a wonderful distraction.

"I would not know how to do anything, really," L insisted, somehow sensing Light's irritation.

Light rolled his eyes again.

"...ěr, Ryuzaki, nǐ huì fēi zhí shēng jī ma?" he said lazily.

"Wǒ bú huì zhī dào de…. Oh!"

"Oh!"

"I speak Mandarin!" L said in astonishment.

"You speak Mandarin!"

"What else can I do?" he ignored Light, suddenly hyper, of all things.

"Tricks. Here," Light plucked a truffle and waved it high above his head, still staring at the TV apathetically. "Who wants a nice candy? You do, you do. Play dead, girl. Play dead."

Light was insinuating L and a female dog were alike.

"French?"

Light tired, and L spoke flawless French.

"English is a boring given," Light informed him; if L spoke English, he would speak in a thick and definitive British accent, and somehow that would be a treat to information the people on the other side of the cameras in L's room would definitely love to use against them, considering L and Light just treated them to an explicit sex scene between two men, and he seriously doubted any of the people watching really needed or wanted to see that.

_Take that_, Light gave himself a mental pat on the back.

They talked, they talked for hours, about nothing really, insulting each other and both feeling the end of a long and tedious journey in their own way.

And for the first time since L had arrived to the hospital, he felt happy. Happy that despite Light's awfulness, there was somebody there who at least pretended to care about him.

And for the first time in a long while, Light felt like he could do anything with his life, and his life was not dependant on anyone's cruel whim.

It was calm.

It was over.

No more murders.

No more chases.

No more games.

No more misguided justice.

The day was coming to a slow and sluggish end. It was still bright and crisp outside, even though it was well past the end of the hospital's visiting hours.

Mello never came for them, and Light didn't really expect him to. The problem was theirs, and when it came down to it, there wasn't any problems at all.

L didn't remember, and Light was willing to forget.

It was over.

The lull of the end of the day made them sleepy, more so than L was willing to admit, but Light was slowly drifting of as he lay motionless across L's stomach after they had a harmless scuffle over L's ridiculous hair and how Light produced a shamelessly girly hairpin with a red strawberry on it and stabbed L's ridiculous hair with it.

"I thought you were dead, twice," Light hooked a finger around the neck of the paperdress, and goosebumps raced down L's spine when he pulled it down just enough to expose a long surgical scar on the left side of his L's pale chest. He traced it with his fingernail and L closed his eyes. "Once, here. I did that, did they tell you? I shot you. Right. Here."

Light softly tapped the side of his finger against the other scar on L's chest, higher than the surgical one. The round one, the one identical to the cigarette burn Matt had given him in the exact spot he shot L.

It was nice.

"After I did that, I knew you were dead, and you were dead. For four months, you were really dead. And I wanted to chase you down and kill you, over and over again. Because what you did, Ryuzaki... what you did was worse than L could've done to me. When killed you, you actually _died_."

This was garbage, both of them knew it. But Light went on, determined to have the last word and explain himself before the day ended and they fell asleep.

"Did they tell you I was Kira? They ended up waving the charges, but I convinced two women to go and kill four criminals. Despite them doing the killings, I was the one behind it and ultimately I was the one who killed those people. But writing what were as good as death certificates of your targets on secret notes is different than rolling up those notes into a tube of a gun and shooting someone. And you _actually_ died. And then you died again in the crash. It's ridiculous."

Light had a death certificate of his own.

L's violin, it bore significance of a second-rate violinist being handed a second-rate violin in _hell_ so that he would understand once and for all that Light refused to be the victim, the weaker party, the... the predestined loser of their game. This significance, their game, it felt forgotten and abandoned and overgrown in moss, dust and gunpoweder ashes, in was caked in dried blood and hidden within a memory that no-longer exited.

It was hard to believe that not that long ago, they had a game going, a real game.

Not that long ago, L was there, but just for a moment.

And then he was gone.

And with him went the tortured nights Light had spent curled into a tight ball under his blankets, alone, crying and shaking in terrible fear that L would break into his private apartment and try to rape him again.

Or worse, kill him, though at that point he wouldn't have known which was worse.

It was when Light was petrified of L that L had left a death certificate for Light on the first night he had broken into his home, violated his privacy and his body, caressed him and assured him he would not hurt him. He left Light his business card. A plain white card with a silver 'L' in the corner.

He clenched it in his sweaty, trembling hand and would not look at it or move at all for hours.

At least his death certificate was classy.

And it was his, his only, so what if it was now officially canceled. At the back of it, in black ink smudged by water was his own name and phone number, written in barely legible chicken scratch writing.

Light remembered thinking that whoever wrote that was a total goof.

And when Light was sure L was dead, Light wanted L, and his stupid violin story, and his stupid candy and cards and everything that had to do with him to go to hell.

This was why that damned violin had L's card – the card L had given to Light – taped to the inside through the F-hole, somewhere inside its frame, and there it was hidden for months...

It was that Happiness deal they made, Light realized. Light's violin, given to L and signed by his card, given to Light. It was their contract, a contract that fixed the flow of their lives into one direction.

Light's life for L's happiness.

A chance to see what happened to Tartini between his deal and the repayment of his debt to the Devil.

And so they were bound to be together.

Until they were executed.

One by one.

This is what he was afraid of.

Until now, and now he knew everything – _everything_ that ever had a chance to go wrong already already went wrong, but it was over now.

The train of thought was gloomy but strangely pacifying, Light's eyelids dropped and his head lulled against L's shoulder. By the end of his monologue, his words were barely a tired whisper.

Teeth chewed on L's bottom lip and it took him a moment to realize they were his own, and he was contemplating making Light more comfortable.

And the beautiful brunette was falling asleep in his arms. He was warm and soft, his gentle natural scent was tangled with lulling smell of sex and fabric softener. For a moment, L regretted forcing him to put his clothes back on.

But he allowed him to go to sleep, finding his hand stroking the silky brown locks.

"How did you seduce me in under a day, Raito? I was sure I was not the one to fall for such tricks."

For the first time in his life, Light let his lips do the talking without constricting a correct answer.

So what came out was the purest of truths he had ever told.

"Because it's easy to seduce people you don't love. But you love me, **L**. Enough for both of us."

And then Light was ripped right out of the lulling sweetness of half-sleep and he jumped to his feet at once and clapped a hand over his mouth, because he knew _Ryuzaki_ had heard him, and the people on the other end of the numerous bugs and cameras had heard him too.

* * *

**HOLLY SHIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED? IT WAS LOOKIN' SO PEACEFUL AND SO **_**OVER**_**..!**

**Noooooo!**

**Wanna know?**

**You **_**will**_** review.**

**Otherwise, I will not update next Friday. D8**

**And I mean it. And you'll won't get to know what happens to them, though at this point since Light just asldkjfadf gave them away and everything went to hell… hmm. **

**This. Is. JUSTICE..!!!**

**Review. Review, review, review, review. **

**THANKS AND LOVE AND CHAPTER DEDICATION TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE: **DNLover02, Black-Dranzer-1119, Weirdest, Jetta, Anemone Kurosaki, Warratah, Your Alien, ., BloodyChinigami, Huehuetecti, Paper Masque, incandescentglow, ellan54, kaaycie, Sovoyita, Killer Rabbit of Caerbonnog, fan-fan31, ..., s3v3n-d34d113s, and Sanzo4ever! T

**Chapter.**

**CH30: The Devil's Violin**

**Next week.**

**But only if you press the magic button and say something, and I am not kidding you I *can* and *will* sit on the chapter and not give it to you. D:  
**

**I LOVE YOU.**

l

l

l

V


	30. The Devil's Violin

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I am terrified of shrimp and bees to the point of crying, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

_Happiness is a thing to be practiced, like the violin._

**CH30**

**The Devil's Violin**

A special court order written up to revoke L's bail was put together as soon as Teru Mikami had convinced the judge to give L bail in the first place, and copies of it were left at the judge's chamber, office, car, home bedroom and the bedroom of her neighbor, ready to be signed immediately.

The legal argument was that if there was anything at all that would tip the scale into the favor of L being proven to be even remotely dangerous, given the sensitivity and the circumstances of his case, his bail privileges were to be suspended until further notice, and L was to be transferred into a maximum-security prison immediately.

This court order was signed minutes after Light had unintentionally given L up.

"I… I-" Light's eyes were wide and his eyebrows quivered. He didn't have anything to say, though he tried to make this somehow better.

Light, making as huge and _stupid_ of a mistake as this one was beyond imagining. He slipped up in the most idiotic possible circumstance and way, and—

He couldn't waste time on this, not now. He knew he only had minutes left with L. Minutes.

Days and weeks and months weren't enough to cover everything he wanted to say to L and just moments ago the sweet delusion that after everything, they had lifetimes together, and then suddenly, they had minutes.

"I- I am _what_?!" said L, also completely aware that their last minutes together were ticking away.

Light still held a hand over his mouth and shook his head. He allowed his teeth to sink into the palm of his hand to distract him from screaming out loud, screaming anything.

"I am so, so sorry…" he groaned through his hand.

He felt tears.

Warm, tiny, trailing down this face, as if he could still cry, like he cried when L forced himself on him, and now he cried because L was done for.

"…I screwed up."

_Feelings_.

"I am- L…?"

"Don't say anything! For God's sake Ryuzaki don't say anything it'll only make it worse!"

"But if I was the one who forced you into this terrible mess, why would you... lie for me?" L said, forgetting all about 'Raito-san' and honorifics and speech-patterns that were so inappropriate for the moment.

Light was getting hysterical.

"I said shut the hell up and don't say anything!!"

"Why would you lie for me?"

Not 'lie to me'.

'Lie _for_ me'.

What a thing to say…

Before Light had any chance to even think of the best answer for this, something that would redeem him in any miniscule way, something that would smooth over his own mess, even just a little, the door of L's room was broken down and the bulky male nurses grabbed both of them and dragged them apart.

Dragged them apart again.

Light ended up screaming, demanding they read their rights to them, but nobody bothered, and with sharp metal bands around their wrists that dug into their skin like jagged barbwires, they were shoved into the hallway and to the elevators.

The real medical staff who were never hard to spot because they were significantly smaller than the guards in nurse outfits, stood against the white walls of the hospital hallway. They aligned perfectly and kept their distance from L and Light and watched the procession before them like witnesses behind the glass of the execution chamber.

Light struggled, shouted and tried to kick away, but somebody hit him in the back of the head almost hard enough for him to fall, instead it shut him up if only for a short time.

The elevators weren't far ahead, and then-

Then somebody's cellphone rang, and then _everybody's_ cellphone rang, and identical tedious work-ringtones echoed and tangled together and created a pained shriek between their unorderly ringing.

Then a few of the radio receivers each of the guards had inconspicuously bulging from their pockets for weeks started talking in clicking static voices, and all but the guards holding L and Light down answered theirs.

"Holy _fucking_ _shit_," was the first response to the radio page, and Light's body stiffened and he tried very hard to overhear just what the hell made a response that by all standards should have been 'yes sir' into a 'holy _fucking shit_'.

"Yes sir!"

All men but one hung up, their temporary team head Light figured, and he took his orders with a grimace on his face.

"Alright! The other _freak_ came to save _that_ one," the man said after he hung up, motioning to L, and L was punched in the face and shaken by the man who held him. He spat blood. "Probably saw this as his last chance. Keep them close! Move them to the vans; if we can't, move them to air support at sixteen hundred. That's twenty minutes. Tango just unloaded it the ambulance entrance. First floor. Fifteen Black USA-standard issue SWAT getups _again_. Consider them heavily armed; one of them, 'Mello', singlehandedly took out an entire armed police station in January. Shoot _then_ ask questions. Move out!"

Amidst the pandemonium Light suddenly had an urge to laugh; he wasn't sure why.

Mello was here, Mello really did plan this out and put together a storm team, and they realized something bad was up, and they were really going to rescue Light and L from this mess, and everything was going to be okay.

It was going to be fine.

Mello was going to fix it.

Apparently he ended up laughing after all, because suddenly his cheekbone started burning and he spat blood from his mouth too.

There were seven policemen with them.

There were about forty total in the hospital.

Light quickly surveyed their situation, counting each man's weapons and the best way to _get_ their weapons, but then he wasn't seeing anything, but it didn't mean that-

Then he heard a shout. And annoyed, sharp and loud sound he had never heard before, and it took him a moment to place a face on it. It was L. L shouted, and his low and angry voice didn't sound more than irritation, but sent a very threatening message with its sheer power.

Light had never heard such a thing.

And L didn't exactly appear to do anything less than cooperate; Light was the one shouting and kicking, and L went willingly and submitted to the cuffing and the dragging like soft wax.

Maybe L was L after all?

"I demand you get me my _violin_."

_No. _

And really, what a stupid thing to ask for when L about to be shipped off to a prison for something he didn't remember doing. L's request was touching almost, and Light clenched his fists.

L never held things for their sentimental value.

L, asking for his violin was as stupid as Light slipping up and exposing L.

But there they were.

Two of the men broke off from the group to evacuate the hospital staff from the floor.

The other five, with L and Light in tow, took the south stairs.

* * *

A few hours prior to the boys' arrest, Soichiro Yagami had parked his civilian car at the hospital parking and spent good twenty minutes clutching the steering wheel of the parked car and breathing. He had done this sixty-three times already, once every day since Matsuda had found his son at the back of L's BMW.

At first, he breathed and prepared himself for the news of his son never making it.

When Light made it, Soichiro tried to figure out what to say to him.

For the bigger chunk of his sixty-three times of staring at nothing at all and waiting for nothing in particular, Soichiro had just hoped his son would see him.

Light refused to see everyone.

Soichiro, Sachiko, Sayu, Matsuda, and even that piece of dirt that was suddenly became '_special'_ because of his '_amnesia_' were all banned from as much as being allowed in Light proximity according to Light's own wishes the hospital had no choice but to respect.

This time around, friendly surveillance crew stationed on the second floor in the borrowed conference rooms of the Infections Diseases department were very reluctant and looked rather awkward when Soichiro asked to see his son on a tiny monitor at least. Usually, they encouraged him, and gave him support, out of pity really, which made Soichiro feel much older and more helpless than he actually was. But at least seeing his son made his months on temporary desk-work transfer bearable, so he played his part, looked sickly and vulnerable, and was allowed to watch and listen to Light verbally assault the doctors and the nurses and the police and anyone else who dared bothering him.

Matsuda, who accompanied Soichiro on this strangely fateful day, did his full idiot routine until Soichiro could squeeze past the crew geeks and scan the monitors for his son.

The first thing that went through his head was that Light had finally broken his boycott and started talking to the piece of trash.

Once the realization that it wasn't _talking _at allthat the boys on the monitor were doing, he froze in his spot and remained still for a moment or two before clapping a hand over his mouth to prevent the stomach bile form dripping out and ran – ran! for the nearest washroom.

He had then returned to his car and sat in it for good four hours this time, trying to sort things out in his mind and not burst in there and strange them _both_.

He had returned to the hospital to do precisely that, and as soon as he set his foot through the automatic glass doors, the hospital went on a lock-down, and gunfire broke out somewhere very far away.

* * *

"Ryuzaki- RYUZAKI! Let me the FUCK go!"

But his wrist, still tender only a day after it lost its cast, felt like millions of pins, smallest imaginable, stabbed it and smoldered the bone from the inside. L's clutch on it made every word he shouted echo down his arm and jerk his bones apart as L dragged him _back_, and Light resisted.

"_We_, Raito-san, _WE_ are going back for my _violin," _L droned in a low monotone that was very unsettlingly calm.

"You're - fucking - insane! They'll catch us! They'll see us on fucking cameras!"

But the floor was deserted by then.

"Raito-san says I am insane? I hardly thinks so, as he had just _murdered_ five _police_ officers!"

"Only three!"

"Yes, and how did I know to _kill_ the rest? Why have I done that? Perhaps Raito-san has forgotten, but I _am_ amnesiac!" L stormed as he ran. "This may come as a surprise to Raito-san, but seeing as I do not remember doing this before, murder by _reflex_ is making me feel an overwhelmingly guilty and regretful!"

"You don't sound the least bit regretful you crazy bastard! Now turn around!"

L turned and leaped over the broken-down door of his room, and Light's wrist felt broken all over again, and he cried in outrage.

L snatched his stupid violin and a jar of fucking gummy worms – gummy worms, when they were about to be caught and shot and killed for fuck's sake! and they ran back to the stairwell.

L, running while bent over, with a jar of gummy bears under one arm, and violin in the other looked ridiculous.

"Seriously?! Gummy bears, Ryuzaki? How fucking stupid are you?!"

"I am not stupid, I am amnesiac, I regret what I am an what I have done, and I am _in shock_, and Raito-san will be considerate of my condition!" said L as he hopped over a large, dead body, stepped on another and ignored the ones against the wall, and landed in a pool of blood - all done in clear remorse, and kept running down the stairs with bloody footprints trailing behind him until there was no more blood to print the stairs with.

"Stop!" said Light.

L did not, and Light grabbed him by the back collar of his paper dress. "In here!"

Light shoved him through the doors of the tenth floor, and L was about to run ahead again, but Light stopped him and pressed his back to the stairway door and shushed him, and to stop L from asking stupid questions, he showed L his hand with five fanned-out fingers.

He folded each one with every second that passed – his thumb at 'one', his index finger at 'two', he held down his pinkie at 'three', and folded the ring finger at 'four' until four seconds passed and what he ended up showing L was his middle finger.

L scoffed, then, the lights went out and Light shoved L back through the fire escape door into the back darkness of the stairwell, and they palmed around for the railing and climbed down almost half of the flight until the emergency light came on and it the visibility of the gray and empty concrete stairway was returned to them.

Light finally huffed very angrily and sat down between a step and the wall, and folded his arms across his chest.

L looked down at him.

" '"You. Are." A censoring pause, "...Insane. They'll .Catch. Us,'" L recited bored and disapproving without fluctuating his tone at all as he stared at Light.

"No, they won't. Matt switched the live feed on the stairs' cameras to a recording of it being empty. And nobody in their right mind would take these stairs unless they know we're here. Which, they don't. There're only recorders left, but they aren't live, they just record. So nobody knows we're here. So shut up and sit still for five minutes."

"Who is Matt-san, and how has Matt-san achieved this, and how does Raito-san know this?"

"Matt. He's _your_ associate. He sent me some spam about Viagra. Told me about the whole thing. I told you. The _zebra_, yesterday?"

L said nothing and sat his violin next to himself and hugged his knees with one arm, away from Light.

"I don' understand that, at all," said Light, his voice suddenly dry. "That _thing_. You went to get it, you risked your life to get it. It's a physical _thing_, not an intangible ideal. You only care about ideals, mentalities and ownerships."

"Whatever value I see in _my violin_, Raito-san, a life is tangible, and by the mentality you seemed to have attached to me, if I see ideals, mentalities and ownerships in my violin that I like enough, obtaining and keeping it is more valuable than any physical thing."

Was it the violin at all they were talking about?

"And I have explained what I see in my violin already," L added after a short pause.

"That's dense, and sentimental. In the end, it's just a stupid violin. There are far more important things going on around it, like questions you should be asking me right about now. "

"What I do not know cannot harm me, and I would like to live out my remaining twenty minutes of life with a clear consciousness. Thank you for respecting that, Raito-san."

And then, he opened his jar of gummy worms, and started devouring them, viciously and quickly.

"By all means," said Light. "Enjoy yourself there."

"So Raifo-san, whaf awe we waiting for?" said L, ignoring him and signaling that the previous conversation was over.

"To be rescued."

"Afright," said L and made a swallow so mightily Light grimaced, "suppose everything Raito-san has said so far is true. Why Raito-san, who is supposedly Kira, and myself, who is supposedly L, would need rescuing at all? I am sure Raito-san and I could have managed to leave here without any help from Madd-san."

Light rolled his eyes and didn't bother correcting L or thinking too much about the state of L's mind. L did not ask any questions, did not doubt Light or what Light's plans seemed to be, did not object much.

If Light simply left him there, L would be a sitting duck, Light realized.

The responsibility to get them out of there was Light's, and Light would without a smallest doubt _run_ and leave L behind to be caught, if only there was a bigger chance of rescuing L that way.

If it came down to it.

_And the policemen who would see the stairwell recordings three minutes later would also know for sure Light could and would abandon L, and that is why it will be easy for them to catch L once they boys had no choice but to separate. _

"Oh no, aww! Is your amnesiac ego bleeding after you realized just how high and mighty you're supposed to be to need saving?"

L shot him a seared look and continued stuffing his face with gummy worms and hugging his knees tighter.

When he finally figured out what to say to that, he made another mighty swallow and Light realized why L was always so good at sucking him off.

What a thing to think!

"My ego is not bleeding," said L in his last sulky attempt to save face, "Has Raito-san considered _I_ might have a devious plan to escape also?"

"Does it involve gummy worms?" asked Light, intrigued. "Perhaps you are planning to knit a rope out of gummy worms that would reach all the way to the first floor, and climb down it?"

L turned away, ate the worms, and watched his violin.

And then...

A heavy, metallic slam.

Another one.

The metallic slamming of the doors under them began – systematic, searching – the squeaking of multiple military rubber boots against the concrete stairs, decreased by one after each door slammed shut: one masked member of Mello's team would break off and search their designated floor. They were getting closer, and L and Light jumped to their feet and made it to the firedoor entrance.

The last floor – the floor L and Light were hiding at had only one member left assigned to it: the team captain.

Mello's masked face just around the corner just enough to see Light shove L through the 10th floor door and wave Mello in, before disappearing behind the metal door of the 10th floor. Mello, masked and with a gun at hand was right behind them.

---

The Japanese police team, with Soichiro Yagami among the armed officers (because of the shortage of men to cover the area) came to the 10th floor one minute too late to catch L and Light and Mello reunite and run off together, because the elevator would not stop at the 10th floor and would skip over it at stop at either 9th or 11th.

They also had surveillance problems with the whole floor, which signified just where exactly their fugitives were.

Soichiro was the one who had found the clothes: Light's silk pajamas, _folded_ hastily, and L's paper-dress just discarded aside.

"They changed clothes," Soichiro radioed out, "expect them to wear the SWAT suit with masks. Apprehend all suspects, repeat, and apprehend _all_ suspects!"

The empty Cancer Ward floor was large, with many corners and turns and awkwardly-positioned rooms, and the police had no choice but to separate.

There were shots fired when Soichiro was too far away.

And when the NPA Chief ran towards the gunfire, he almost missed L, crawling on the floor, probably coming from under the table he was hiding under.

Masked and black-clad, it was unmistakably L, and Soichiro would have missed him if it wasn't for the shine of the polished orange violin that had hit Soichiro in the eye.

That shine was like a beacon.

L had seen him, too.

It happened all too fast, the rush to get him, the missed shot, the precise last-moment spin that got L to slip right though Soichiro's grasp, another missed shot...

L was unarmed, and handicapped if anything by his determined refusal to let go of his violin, but he weaseled around Soichiro like a sly rat.

In his time, the police chief dealt with karate punks with crowbars, but they were at least conventional and predictable. L dropped, kicked, and rolled, and flipped in the air, and if Capoeira had its weaknesses if done wrong, Soichiro supposed L had extensive training in it, and it was its awkwardness and unpredictability that made it so difficult. A whirl in the air, a drop, a kick with a leg Soichiro didn't even know was there, and his knees lost ground and he shot the wall L just jumped behind and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

Soichiro got up and chased him, muttering curses under his damp mustache.

L made it to the fire escape, the one Soichiro and his men just came though, and the old officer already calculated his chances of shooting L down as he jumped the stairs; the stairwell was narrow enough. It wouldn't be hard.

And then L pushed the bar of the exit and with a sickening crash of the metal and bone and metal plating of the SWAT clothes, his whole body implanted itself into the door that did not open.

There was nowhere to go, and as L was about to get up, confused and disoriented, Soichiro kicked him down with his foot and pulled him up, pressed against the miraculously locked firedoor.

"Suspect apprehended!" Soichiro groaned into his radio before he had to drop it because he needed his had do hold down this… _this_… touching _him_ suddenly made Soichrio sick.

The blood from Soichiro's pulse was drumming in his ears; his breath was short from the chase, but he kept this… this despicable, disgusting filth of the world of a man in a crushing headlock, and hell if he would let him loose, or even allow him to breathe.

If he would kill this filth by accidentally strangling him, to hell, so be it.

His anger was pushing him closer and closer to the state of red mist the longer he held L in a headlock, and the more the L struggled and tried to elbow him, the harder Soichiro squeezed the space between his shoulder and wrist where L's throat was not passing any air.

In their struggle, L's black locks started poking out from under his black SWAT mask, and somehow it made Soichiro disgusted for even holding him.

Then, in a blink of an eye, L pulled his feet up in the air and Soichiro lost his balance because he suddenly had to hold L suspended in the air.

_Damn it-_

L dropped them to the ground enough to let a leg fly out and sock Soichiro in the gut in another obscene Capoeira move, but while the bastard did this Soichiro released one hand and grabbed his gun.

L could have grabbed the gun.

It was self-sacrificial almost how he clutched his violin, not dropping it when he should have, and reached for the gun with the wrong hand, but it was too late.

A loud shriek that followed the shot was louder than the engine of a police helicopter that had just taken off from the roof.

Soichiro couldn't help but notice that when it came down to it, L's form, thrashing on the ground with a bleeding, shattered kneecap was moaning in pain was a pathetic sight.

_It_ reminded him of a rat, caught in the mousetrap but not killed by it, instead shrieking and tossing and trying to crawl away.

With that kneecap busted, L would be lucky to be able to walk to his own execution.

This coward, coward, _coward_!

This pathetic, filthy coward that had devastated the world, destroyed families, raped his son, this scum-

L sounded pathetic, shrieking like this.

It couldn't have been more than a minute, and the worlds' greatest murderer still couldn't form words, just low groans and writhe on the ground.

L was finally done for.

And still, he would still not let go of his violin.

* * *

A/N: So…

So... yeah, that just happened.

**THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT POINT TO REVIEW AT. **

**CRUCIAL POINT. **

**I NEED TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHS ON THIS. **

This is **NOT** the last chapter. **NOT NOT NOT NOT!!!**

Thank you for reviewing SHOUTOUTS AND LOVE:** ArtistOfLight, Anemone Kurosaki, Dark Green Poop,incandescentglow, ellan54, jarnee337, ., Elizabeth Marie Jones, Sanzo4ever, Warratah, Huehuetecti, Cakeat, Kari Twilight Mist, Hispanic Tenshi, Nooo!, Keyinei, ., mary, fan-fan31, Weirdest, Jetta, Sovoyita, Nardaviel, Rosa Mar, unheardcries, Altair718, Blind Justice, s3v3n-d34d1135 **and** DNLover02!!**

**Almost all of you said things about blackmail. XD Sorry..! But it gets the job of an update done, sooo… OTL**

But still.

L just got royally screwed without any way to escape.

**SO I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. **

**What the hell is gonna happen next?!?! GUESS!!**

**YES reviews = YES chapter next Friday. D8**

**Really. For all the people who're about to cry about what just happened, talking about it helps. ):  
**

**CH31: S---…. Oh **_**no**_** you **_**don't.**_** Starts with an 's' though. **

**I can't announce the name of CH31 because it would asdf spoil it.**

**Review.**

**The magic button demands to know what you think.**

**l**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	31. Scam

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I can't bring myself put here what I really want to say atm, and I don't own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**IV: Tartini**

_'Tis God gives skill, but not without men's hand: He could not make Antonio Stradivarius's violins without Antonio._

**CH31**

**Scam**

"Suspect apprehended!" Soichiro Yagami radioed out, and shortly after this Light Yagami was shoved and dragged across the roof where his hair was disheveled by the awaiting helicopter.

The officer manhandling Light to the airsupport was someone Light vaguely remembered, but that didn't ease the man's bruising hold on his shoulder and forearm nor did it make him drag Light towards the chopper any gentler.

Light too was caught.

And if his white pajamas and scared expression made the officer doubt himself for one moment, the small blood drips on his pants, and his slippers, red and soaked through with blood that wasn't his sealed his verdict and the officer that happened to be right on the other side of fire exit when Soichiro had caught Light but the Yagami boy somehow broke out and barricaded himself in the stairwell.

Twenty minutes have passed since the hospital was invaded.

The man simply grabbed Light and wrestled him upstairs.

He radioed out that he re-apprehended Yagami, and men have confirmed it, though the static interference was high. Something was jamming, or at least attempting to jam everyone's signal.

But now, all he had to was push against the semi-struggling Yagami boy and the wind of the main rotor of the helicopter; it was all that was between him and justice.

Otherwise, the roof of the hospital was completely clear.

They were by the chopper now. The pilot waved them in.

The man pushed Light up to get inside; pushed and shoved him up more like, because the skids raised the cabin high above the ground, and Light was shouting at him and cursing him, but the rotor roared in noisy, whistling pitch, and he didn't care anyway.

And then Light bowed down, as low as the man's grasp on him would allow, and then there were two swift and loud pops – loud enough to outscream the roar of the helicopter.

And the grip on Light's forearm loosened and fell away.

* * *

There was someone under the left stairs thing, right behind the busted chair, Matt knew there was someone, and that someone would definitely shoot him if he were to take a half-step more into the open.

He noticed the slight movement out of the corner of his eye by a miracle.

Well, actually it wasn't a miracle at all.

It was that Matt was a genius. The Matt was The Genius. A total, undeniable unbeatable god of gods of spotting things and shooting them.

He switched his semi-auto with a pistol and it took only one well-aimed shot to do away with the freakin' camper.

"Boo-yah!" he shouted and ran left, right, right, up, left again, shot some moron wondering around like it was a picnic or something, and almost shot a friendly while he was at it. The friendly told Matt something about his mother.

Matt ran for the roof, picking up some dead idiot's automatic on his way 'cause he was running out of bullets; he was almost there and then, and then--- and then something beeped, signaling Matt really should pay attention to _it_ rather than the total waste of his life that he was busy with at that moment. Something to the left of him, something he _should have_ been paying attention to- _fuck fuck fuck!!!_Matt then looked at it. _FUCK!_

_What is this shit!!_

_No fucking way! Fucking again?_

_Shit shit shitshitshit!!_

"Mello! MELLO! Mello for fuck's sake where the hell are-"

"_What_," Mello mouthed around a toothbrush, dragging his feet into Matt's room, "if you got another NVP… or MVP... or whatever the fuck, I _still_ don't. Fuckin'. Care."

Matt only let the sleepy and irritated blonde finish up his tirade because he was busy staring at him and rubbing the crust away from his bloodshot eyes to make sure he in fact actually saw Mello there, standing in front of him, surrounded by the various boxes and wrappers from collectibles Matt got a long time ago from the Star Trek con and never cleaned up. That Mello that he saw was the real Mello and not an all-nighter-spent-playing-COD-induced hallucination. But it was Mello, there; the blonde was even standing on something that looked like Master Yoda. There. In front of Matt.

He slowly lowered his controller and heard his Specnaz being sniped. _What the hell…_

"_What."_

"Well... y-you're… here," stuttered Matt.

"Yes, genius. I'm _here_."

"Here. In... in Britain."

"Yes, I'm also still on planet Earth, you fag. What the fuck's the matter with you?"

"So… you _didn't_ take off to Japan to go and save L and The Boyfriend in the middle of the night… 'cause… you're here."

"Why the fuck would I do that. We're breaking them out on their court hearing. Which is in October. It's August you dumbass. What the hell."

"What the hell," Matt repeated, stunned, and turned to look at his side monitor that was tapped into the hospital surveillance in Japan.

That set up alone took skills, man. _Skills_.

"What?"

"Well... they were being thrown to jail like five minutes ago 'cause The Boyfriend blabbered or something."

"_So?_" Mello was annoyed Matt caused a scene just to tell him this. It didn't really matter if the freak and the lovebird were being thrown into jail. Mello and Matt had anticipated it and actually expected it. It wasn't a big deal. It changed nothing and was virtually insignificant.

"_So_... um, well... you and me... we're in Japan right now. We're wearing pretty SWAT tutus an' rescuing them."

"What?" Mello groaned and shoved Matt away to get a look at the monitor for himself.

"I know, right, '_what'_! What the fuck? We're both fuckin'... here. That's- not us..!"

"No shit we're here," Mello said dryly, puzzled as he switched the feed to Matt's TV and subsequently killed his COD screen.

"Then who the fuck're those clowns, man?"

* * *

"-sir! Don't kill him, sir! _Yagami-san_, _stop! _Don't kill that son of a bitch!" Matsuda's shouting came through the ringing in Soichiro's ears after a few dozen words. Slowly, the fog centered around L's twitching form cleared, and Soichiro could _see_ Matsuda. He could see and hear Matsuda's pleas to stop – to stop what?

Matsuda recognized L, recognized the violin, recognized the last capoeira kick he'd seen him pull before Soichiro shot him.

Matsuda also saw Soichiro. And his gun.

His gun was aimed at L's head.

He was going to kill him.

"_Yagami-san_, we can't kill him, we need him alive! Stop, put the gun down..! It's over...!"

Oh, what would Soichiro give to put a bullet in L's brains, and it would end this, end all this madness-

Politics.

Though he really didn't care, he imagined how much shit he was in already just by shooting this _precious_ Japanese _asset_.

Disgusted, Soichiro lowered his gun, planning to kill the son of a bitch when Matsuda wasn't looking, but face to face. It would give him more satisfaction.

"Cuff him," the chief grunted.

If only it wasn't for Matsuda's courtesy. Soichiro didn't want to see that bastard, not really. He didn't want to see his face, his clueless and wronged face, his wounded pride – because the scum wouldn't even recognize _what_ he was shot for.

The bliss of lost memory.

He didn't deserve it.

He deserved to know what kind of garbage he was.

And yet, Matsuda's cruel fingers hooked around the rim of the black mask, and Soichiro prepared to take one last look at that shit's face, before he would put a bullet right between those black eyes.

The mask came off, and for a brief moment the familiar face under the mask fooled the men into secure thinking that the man revealed it was as bad as all the world said he was.

But that moment came, and went.

Not only it wasn't L, it was much, much worse.

It was an FBI agent.

"You goddramn _idiots! _What the _hell_ are you doing?!" shouted a hysterical Misora Naomi.

---

Soichiro didn't move.

Everything, even the tiny flakes of dust froze in time and stayed still and suspended in the air, white as snowflakes.

"What the _hell_ are _you_ doing here!" shouted Matsuda.

But she screeched, squirmed and jerked around, and Matsuda dove down to do something – something for her.

"Who the hell is this!" The Japanese officers rushed towards them and aimed their guns at Naomi, and subsequently at Matsuda, and she covered her face and screamed again.

"She's FBI, we know her!" vouched Matsuda when Soichiro stood frozen and speechless.

"She's _FBI_? She's _what_?"

"We're-" Naomi harked out, her voice breaking, "_yes_ we're fucking FBI, we're all wearing fucking... gah! –ing American SWAT u-uniforms, _who the fucking hell else did you think we were you fucking idiots!_"

"What the hell are you doing here!"

"Don't give me this shit you f-fucking crooked asshole!" Misora started, fury and pain boiling out and over when Matsuda tightened his belt around her bleeding leg, "We're grabbing L and getting him to the States where you assholes can't let go of his murdering ass for a pile of fucking _money_!"

"What money! We're transferring him to jail, not letting him go..!" yelled Matsuda.

The confusion set in heavily.

"Why the fuck are you doing that!"

"Because Light confessed!"

"Fucking BULLSHIT, YOU WERE TRANSPORTING HIM OUT AND FREE! If not, then WHY TE FUCK DID YOU MORONS OPEN FIRE AT US!" her voice cracked.

"We thought you were _Mello's_ people trying to save him!"

"What?!"

"We've been expecting them for weeks!"

Misora shouted again and cursed everyone present, their wives and husbands and mothers in livid English, and swung L's violin at them, but they were well out of her reach. So she smacked Matsuda, and the violin's bottom snapped, and one side came apart from the other, but otherwise remained largely intact. This pissed her off even more.

"We thought... you were L!" offered Matsuda for Soichiro, still shouting because Naomi was shouting, and she just hit him when he was helping her, and shouting kept the world from coming apart, it seemed. "With… with your freaky fighting, and with _that stupid violin_!"

"Let go of that thing for god's sake," was the first thing Soichiro hissed, and Naomi glared at him from under a mop of sweaty black hair, messed after her mask was ripped off.

"I fucking _can't_! That _cunt_, that fucking son of a bitch cunt, bastard son of yours fucking _glued_ it to my hand!"

She shook her gloved palm with the violin in it to prove her point. She probably didn't have time to even try to peel it off yet; it was stuck to her black glove, and shiny, clear rock-solid instant glue drips were smeared all over it; it probably soaked through the fibers of her glove and fused with her skin.

What in the world...

Whatever was happening, it still meant Light with L in tow were still at large.

The idea that Light – his _son_, being in charge of… of this, of everything was as sickening as the idea of holding onto L when Soichiro still thought Naomi was L.

Soichiro tried the radio, _everybody_ on the 10th floor tried their radios. Nobody replied. The radios were dead.

Everybody's cellphone had no signal.

Even the telephones on the floor had no signal, for god's sake.

When Misora ran away from Soichiro, she slammed into a fire exit, because it was locked.

"Sir... sir, the south doors are locked, too."

"What the hell do you meant the doors are locked!"

Every single firedoor was locked, and the elevator was still not working either.

They were trapped.

The few men who knew what really went on had no way of letting the rest of the police force and FBI know not to shoot at each other, and to let them know the suspects were _not_ apprehended.

They could do nothing.

At all.

Light had them strung up like marionettes on strings; he made them into his fools.

It was sickening, really.

"Maybe someone else'll catch them. I mean, it's just Rait-"

"Don't say his name!" Soichiro roared, and Matsuda cowered away before he went on.

"-it's just _Him_. He's basically pulling his own weight and L's weight, too, because L right now is like... well, luggage. He can't help much. I mean, Ra- _He_ managed to trap us here and all, but then what? He and L hadn't communicated at all, and L's amnesiac. Somebody else'll catch them, don't worry sir."

"You don't know that little _shit_, Matsuda."

"He probably just figured out it was FBI and not Mello, maybe he even," Matsuda paused, "_knew_ Mello wouldn't come. He just took advantage of it."

"You don't _know_ him, Matsuda- I don't even know him, and he's my-! I don't know how deep this shit goes."

---

When the door to the 10th floor was finally opened by a rather grim-looking technician surveillance woman Soichiro knew, before Matsuda or anyone else could tell her what went on, she said:

"We know."

It was too late.

"They're gone." Matsuda said, stunned.

"Yes. Come with me, Soichiro-san."

"Why?" said Matsuda for the chief.

"Because your," she paused icily, "_son_ is on a videocall. He wants to speak with you."

"What?" said Matsuda.

"I have no son," deadpanned Soichro as they ascended the fire stairs. Everything was quiet – too quiet, and as they went down, they met people, some masked FBI agents and some police officers they knew, staring at them with blank, dead eyes as these people greeted them from pools of blood.

"Jesus, it's a blood-bath," somebody at the back of their procession muttered, and nobody said a word to them.

"He told us exactly where you would be, he had us come and get you. We are stalling because we're trying to triangulate his call, but he manually redirected us to fourteen proxies so far." She sounded appalled and dubious, like such a thing wasn't even possible. "Try to keep him on for as long as you can."

She showed him his seat in front of a monitor and a camera.

Soichiro preferred to remain standing, still as a hollow statue, and feeling every bit like one.

Instead, Matsuda took the seat.

The monitor clicked on.

There, against a tiled wall of some place Soichiro guessed was a bathroom of some kind, sat _his son_.

He wore a green T-shirt with a panda picture on it and letters WWF – it was as if this person in fact wasn't his son, as Soichiro had never seen his son wear something so down-to-Earth as a regular T-shirt.

He had a bruise on his lip and a gash on his cheek, but other than that, he looked relaxed and smug, even.

"Hello," he said pleasantly.

Soichiro said nothing.

"Raito... what the hell? Why?" said Matsuda.

Soichiro let Matsuda do all the talking, because if he himself opened his mouth, he was sure it would be to scream a cry of anger as he smashed his _son's_ smug face on the monitor with a chair.

Light, whose sole focus was on his father's shaded figure in the background, shifted his gaze to Matsuda, who was right there in front of him, pretty much blocking Soichiro. It was like Light just realized Matsuda was there at all.

"Wouldn't you rather know _how_ I pulled this of?"

"Luck," barked Matsuda. "You screwed up by telling L was L, and picked up on the FBI being here and improvised because it was your last resort. It paid off. Where is L?"

"Oh, L is right here." He smiled pleasantly again, and went on in his sweet, honey voice, "And... did you really think after all I went through just fighting him off at the beginning, and then hiding him from you, I would just... screw up and spit his name out? Just like that?"

"What?"

"You're naïve, Matsuda. And the rest of _them,_ well, they are just stupid. Get it? It was just after my last cast was removed. _Suspicious_, right? I called his name so that a very _suspicious_ warrant for our transportation to jail would get issued. So that the FBI who are already _suspicious_ of Japanese corruption would move in and try to extract us."

"...so that we would think the FBI is Mello's rescue team."

"Oh, there is a lot more to it!" Light rolled his eyes and smirked, and Matsuda had an urge to slap the monitor's projection of Light's face. "I knew exactly _when_ they would move in, _what_ stairs they would take, _what_ cameras they would scramble, and _how many _of them there would be. _Fifteen_. They would break up into five and ten. Six to hold off the first floor. Nine would take each subsequent floor up to tenth. I put together my own signal scrambler on the 10th floor –"

"How did you-"

"Yeah, about that. Who in their right mind gave me a computer?"

"We monitored everything you did on that-!"

"You gave _me_ a computer. It's self-explanatory."

The camera photage - even something as small as Light waving "Mello" in was a reassurance clue for police to pick up, that the SWAT were the enemy, that the SWAT were Mello's people.

It was all an carefully constructed show.

Right from the smallest tedious detail of the exact duplicate of their clothes lying around, making it look like they changed into SWAT uniforms, and right up to programming the elevator to skip the 10th floor, right to knocking out Misora Naomi and gluing L's violin to her hand.

Why?

"So that someone would radio out that a 'suspect was apprehended'," Light explained, toying with the sleeve edge of his green panda shirt flirtatiously. "So that I could cut off communication, and I would be walked to the helicopter, no questions asked... so I could _steal_ it, and get away." He added a little 'running away' motion with his fingers as he moved his hand across the screen for a demonstration.

This, all of this...

It sounded good in theory, but it was a terrible joke of luck that Light even got as far as killing – yes, Soichiro's son was nothing short of a filthy murderer, _killing_ the first five guards who took them from L's room.

It was a long-shot Light would be able to take out the helicopter guard.

And then, according to his sly and grin of an inflated ego, actually fly a helicopter.

All while having L in tow. L was a liability. It was nearly impossible to do without someone dragging him down; something as meticulously planned as Light's plan needed precision, and with someone clueless and uninformed, it was ridiculous Light even pulled half of it off, let along the whole thing, without any help.

Or did he not bring L along?

L wasn't in the camera.

Matsuda was about to ask where L was when a tech person tracing the videocall shook his head in frustration for the fifth time, and restarted the system.

Matsuda still needed time.

"Is that what you called us for? To show off? What do you want, Raito?"

"Oh I can't say _now_, I am saving that part for a little later. In, say... four minutes. You'll see, it's really good. For now though, I'm just having a nice conversation. Don't you like talking to me, Matsuda, _dad_?"

Soichiro did not acknowledge Light's word choice.

"Where is L," he grunted, his words short and sharp.

"Eating something, probably." Light shrugged. "He bitches a lot, so I just left him alone to do whatever he wants."

"He's not there, is he?" Matsuda quipped, suddenly boastful about having something at least to their advantage.

"No, he's here."

"You're lying. There's no way you could've dragged a deadweight amnesia patient through that whole plan of yours without getting him killed. He's either dead, or still here."

"Oh, yeah. About that. There he is. –Ryuzaki! Get over here, they don't believe me!"

"Raito-kun does not need to shout."

L's jean-clad feet came into view first, indicating that Light was indeed sitting on the bathroom floor. L's jeans were a new pair, not the torn and ragged kind he usually wore, but they had to do. They were also tighter, and not as baggy.

L plopped down next to Light, with a tub of ice-cream in one hand, and a rather large scoop stuck to his table spoon in the other. He licked it with the flat of his tongue.

"Raito, what are you going to do with him?" Matsuda said to Light, disappointed.

"Me? Oh, noth-"

But L interrupted Light, and Light gave him an unamused sideways glare.

"Hello Matsuda-san!" L said owlishly, "I believe I owe you a toffee."

"What?" mouthed Matsuda without using his vocal cords. This... this man was what the whole thing was about, _this clueless amnesiac_ who enjoyed blissful oblivion due to memory loss, this sitting duck who could in no way escape the police because he didn't know how... and yet there he was, on the other side of the screen, virtually untraceable, enjoying ice-cream and telling Matsuda he owed him a toffee.

"What?" said Light for Matsuda.

"Ah, you see, it was a mental promise. Once Matsuda-san vowed to catch me or Mello at the beginning of our joint investigation, I decided I would give Matsuda-san a congratulatory toffee if he actually succeeds, and as Matsuda-san did manage to catch me in a race, he deserves his toffee... to be perfectly honest, it was going to be a minty at first, but I ate the minty and so I changed the prize to a toffee-"

L rambled on.

* * *

**A/N: now you will tell me what went through your head as you read this chapter. 8D**

**Who saw this coming.**

**Now who saw the end of this chapter coming. **

THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS: **fouloldron, Behan, Cakeat, Jabba, DNLover02, Warratah, Nooo!, Bling Justice, PaperMasque, Huehuetecti, Jetta, Canderjack, Darkling Days, Yoshiluvr, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, Sev, Ellan54, ArtistOfLight, Dark green Poop, Keyinei, Rin5o, Altair718, Nardaviel, Anemone Kurosaki, iRoteLveOnUrArms, fan-fan31, s3v3n-d34d1135, Empty Melodies, yenillor, Sovoyita,** and **My Favorite Crooked Smile! **

I LOVE YOU ALL FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER!

One person kinda saw stuff coming, for which I feel very proud.**Canderjack** said, "_that's not L that just got shot. Just because you can see black hair under the helmet and he's carrying the violin doesn't mean it's L._"

I LOVE YOU TO DEATH. TOFFEE FOR YOU! By the way, the congratulatory toffee thing goes all the way back to CH10. ;D

**Now, if you want to know how it ends, since this is a cliffhanger and all, you will review. **

**Or else I won't update next week. D:**

**-blackmails you to review-**

**Press the magic button for….**

CH32: Devil's Trill, pt 1.

**I LOVE YOU. **

l

l

l

V


	32. Devil's Trill, pt 1

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, I watched every episode of every season of 14 of TV's top 40 TV shows as procrastination to writing this chapter, and I do not own Death Note._

**Devil's Trill**

**Be then advised, and hold me free of blame;**

**Men should not be too serious at a game.**

**CH32: Devil's Trill - pt. 1**

"Raito-kun. _Light_. It has ended; this is the end. Just let it all go."

"It's my game. You agreed."

L was flying a helicopter when he "agreed", and with the way Light was practically "co-piloting" them into buildings, L would have agreed to anything.

"Very well. But before Light-kun proceeds, I would like to caution him against prolonging the end. Our little… adventure truly ended. It is over, and everything Light-kun shall do from here-on is just that: dragging out the ending-"

"No, Ryuzaki. _No_. There is just one last thing I have to do-"

"I will warn Light-kun one last time: Light-kun playing the game that is already over. With myself, Yotsuba, Mello, the FBI, the NPA out of the game, Light-kun is doing nothing more but playing chess on an empty chessboard_. The only one left to take the damage is Light-kun himself._"

"So?" Light asked L quietly, his carefree expression all but gone from his face. It was as if he was looking for a satisfactory answer to his 'so' – something that would at least reassure him.

L offered no such remedy.

"So, Light-kun must be aware: there will be consequences. You should know when to quit before-"

"No, I'm not afraid of consequences. They're welcome, actually. What I'm really afraid of – and I tell you this because I will probably spend the rest of my life with you – I'm afraid of…"

_Was Light afraid of L?_

_Was Light afraid of L killing him?_

_Was Light afraid of falling in love with L?_

L wondered which of the infinite romantic dilemmas would make for a better story. The moment dragged on in a sluggish waltz, and it felt like Light made a pause where he actually made no pause at all.

But the possibilities of what Light could be afraid of – they were all so infinite, so fresh and sweet and lovely and happy, and as they flashed through his head, L felt no hope Light would say any of them, ever.

"… boredom." Light finished off, and L felt no remorse, either. He hoped for, expected and received absolutely _nothing_.

"I see," L nodded plainly.

He released the "pause" space key that kept the NPA on the other end of the video call waiting in suspense as L offered Light a piece of advice.

The NPA did not seem too happy to have the visual back. Something about L and Light's faces must have disturbed them, particularly Soichiro. But just as L was removing his hand from the keyboard, a large chunk of half-melted butter-cream ice-cream with a nut frozen into its core slipped off the edge of his spoon and splattered over the K and the L keys. Hoping Light didn't notice yet, L quickly tried to clean it off with his fingers, and accidentally pushed the sticky beige-colored gunk deeper into the keyboard.

L cleared his throat.

Light _very much_ noticed.

The un-muted and un-blinded Touta Matsuda and Soichiro Yagami on the other end of the video-call looked as un-amused as Light, the difference was, Light's computer was a little ruined, and the police officers had their whole lives and lives of many fellow colleagues taken away by a beloved son.

And yet both parties had an identical expression of discontent; L found their respective priorities very funny.

He cleared his throat again.

"NPA," Light shot L one last warning glare before he turned to the screen and began his address, "you have failed in your initial investigation of L. You know what, no, that's not right. You failed the _law_, you had a _witness_. Everything could've been avoided if you just treated your witness as a regular witness and not a _son_-"

_Lie._

L wondered if the NPA on the other end recognized Light's hurt and wronged-by-such-an-injustice tone as a _lie_.

Light didn't need to justify anything, nor was he trying to.

_Pretty words,_ L realized. Light just liked pretty words and the ring of his own voice; never mind that there was absolutely no substance behind them.

"-last chance to catch me and L."

"What?" said L.

"We will remain in Japan for another day, just for you, NPA. This is your last chance to bring us to justice. If you can't, L and I will do it. Together. L and I will do God's work, L will kill criminals on behalf of Kira. I think you'll find the current broadcast of Sakura TV interesting. You have twenty-four hours to catch us."

To reinforce the seriousness of Light's bluff-free message that he was completely warned ahead of, L kept his face blank and nodded in occasional acknowledgment of agreement until Light turned off the broadcast.

"I will do _what_, Light-kun?"

"God's work by killing criminals of behalf of Kira."

"I am resisting an urge to laugh," L assured Light.

"Well, you will, right?"

L said nothing.

"…no?"

"No."

"Aww, darn it," Light pressed his lips together bashfully.

L still failed to feel amusement.

And then, like the quick cake that always ran away faster than L could catch it in L's least favorite dream, Light bolted across the tiled floor and out of the bathroom, and L darted after him because he knew that the quick cake wanted to be chased for some odd reason, and so did Light.

Away the cake ran, lurking in the labyrinth of unfinished basement walls and avoiding the areas where the ceiling collapsed. Around an exposed metal beam, up the stairs, through the metal door that kept the basement of the unfinished warehouse protected from the explosion many months ago.

L followed Light to the surface, and even higher.

And they raced, their feet tangling in the burned rubble of wood, drywall, garbage, half-melted beer cans and graffiti that smoldered away long ago.

The skeletons of walls, with now even less drywall hiding their structure, looked spookier, scarier even than L could ever imagine a few walls looking, but it was night-time, it was dark, and the cool wind was stirring ash through the unfinished side of the building.

Whistling, howling, even.

They leaped over the ancient yellow police tape and up the stairs.

More light, and illuminated with dull blue hue, the blackened walls of the fifth floor cast no shadows. The ash was peeling off everything and dropping in caked clumps as L used the remainders of walls to swing around corners. His feet, palms and face were black, and he realized he'd have to take another shower and get a new change of clothes, or else Light wouldn't let him near the bed.

But Light himself was as black as the Devil, and yes, there Light stood, dirty and out of breath, smiling like an idiot as the heels of his shoes hung off the edge of the fifth storey with the wind ruffling the back of his head and no wall to break his fall if he tripped.

Not running anymore, L assumed his proper position just a few steps behind his... killer?

_Yes_, L agreed with himself, _"killer" sounds very appropriate. _

"Well," called Light, still slightly out of breath, "aren't you gonna offer me your hand, tell me you love me, and tell me not to jump?"

L looked Light over to make sure he had no gun on him.

"..or push me?" Light added when L kept staring at him.

"Why has Light-kun brought me here?"

"Killjoy."

This was an interesting site at least; explosion debris, concrete chunks, ash, and miles of yellow police tape and markers, forgotten and neglected as just another dead end, all hiding the memories of the fifth floor at the abandoned warehouse construction site where Light lost his life and L lost his happiness.

L really wanted to look around. Instead he kept staring intently at Light, for the sake of his own safety, that is. This was not a good place to trust Light. Light might as well try and reenact the shooting him and almost killing him part of that glorious day because he would suddenly feel nostalgic... Light was just crazy enough to try it if he felt like it, L had no doubt.

Light did all the "looking around" for him, anyway when he said, "hey, look. To the left of you. I think if we dig the debris, there's still your blood on the floor."

"If Light-kun looks behind his belt, I believe there will be a gun there."

"Oh. No, I swear I don't have a gun," L didn't believe him. "I don't, just look!" Light turned around and L had a feeling he almost accidentally tripped and fell off the edge, because once L confirmed Light in fact had no gun on him and told the brunette to "just come off the edge already, Light-kun," Light obliged immediately.

"I made you come here because they say that when amnesiacs revisit significant places, they remember things, and then they feel a flood of emotions. So… anything?"

"Nothing, Light-kun. I am also not amnesiac anymore, either, so I do not understand what this would accomplish if it had worked. Did Light-kun feel anything?"

Light shrugged and slid down a concrete pillar with his back and left a sizable smudge in the caked ash. He sat on the floor. L joined him.

"No, nothing. It's weird. We're supposed to feel things here."

L said nothing.

"L," Light droned suddenly. "I am giving you space so that you'd start talking about it yourself. This is the point where you start talking about it yourself."

"I believe that speech pattern does not belong to Light-kun-"

"Stop avoiding the subject!"

"Which subject, Light-kun?"

Light sighed, gathering the last of his patience.

"Your memory. How much do you remember?"

"I remember everything."

"You are lying."

"I remember almost everything."

"No you don't."

"I remember almost everything of what I should remember."

"Try again."

"That was the truth."

"So," Light considered, "there are gaps?"

"They will be filled in rather quickly, I assure Light-kun. After I started remembering, the process was rather swift-"

"What triggered it?"

"It was _not_ Light-kun who triggered it."

"Oh. Okay," L could hear the sound of Light's ego bubble deflating. "But what was it?"

L considered before sharing.

"There was a picture. The hospital's praying room; it had a picture of angels, angel-children with golden halos around their heads, with morning sun behind them. It was rather bad taste and poor association, but I remembered-"

But L stopped.

"You remembered what?"

"...I suppose I will allow Light-kun to see for himself once we leave Japan. This reminds me, Light-kun, 'Leaving tomorrow,' 'catch us if you can,' 'L and Kira,'" L accompanied each statement with a ridiculous hand gesture, "all that, really?"

The sly smirk across Light's lips and the eerie glow in his caramel eyes would have looked attractive to L if there wasn't black dirt smudge straight down Light's cheek and nose; their little sprint left them covered in black ash head to toe. Light clearly did not want to be bothered about it, not with L's dirty hands, and L didn't particularly want to, so they sat just far enough from each other to appear polite.

"Well, about that – I still have a game to play."

"Light-kun-"

"It's over, yeah, yeah. I know," Light sung in minor annoyance, his spirits still high, "I want one day. Then I'm all yours forever, and we will judge criminals together-"

"-I will remind Raito-kun that I will not subscribe to his Kira _joke_-"

"-sure you will, this is justice-"

L shot him a look.

"-do not insult me, Light-kun."

"Fine. If you won't play Kira with me, at least pretend you're game for a day. It's easy. Just follow my lead. Just think of what God would do."

"If God was here, Light-kun, I would be asking him what to do."

"To do with-?"

"To do with you," L elaborated.

"I'm pretty sure you'll be fucking me in the shower."

"Is that all we shall ever do from now on?"

"Sex?" Light considered for a moment and frowned as if he had thought about the question many times himself, and always came to the same conclusion – a conclusion that deserved a frown every time. "Yeah. To be fair, it's great sex though."

"That will most certainly not do. I shall come up with something more to entertain Light-kun."

"Yeah. Sure, and while you're doing that, I have a story to tell you. The Devil's Trill-"

"Light-kun intends to tell _me_ _my_ favorite story?"

"Yup," and Light jumped up to his feet so quickly and carelessly that for a moment, L saw Light, and Light he saw was as black as the real Light, in a SWAT uniform, in a room with no ash in it – not yet. The imaginary Light danced around the room, calling out insanities, and L felt fear – fear, because he knew Light would try to kill himself, even if it would be a lie, even if it would be L himself who would nearly die, but it was only a memory, and it passed quickly, but not before delivering a stab to L's brain somewhere, and did his _eyes_ ever _hurt_-

"You okay?" Light noticed, and offered L a black ash-stained hand.

"I am alright," L took it. "…flashback."

"Of?"

"D-delicious cak..."

But he couldn't fake it, even if he tried, because for the first time since he started sporting it like a fashion statement of extremely bad taste, L's fake heart lost a beat and fell out of rhythm. Blood rushed past his eardrums, and before he even realized his forehead was suddenly damp from cold sweat, he couldn't feel Light's hand in his own anymore because his fingers were numb.

There was no pain so he wasn't having a heart attack, but there was cold, and it washed down his arm; when blood failed to travel any lower, L felt the ground escape from under his feet.

Light caught him.

Dizzy and almost unconscious, L wondered just how significant it was that Light bothered to catch him instead of leaving him on the ash-covered floor and going to brush his hair or something.

And so, L said: "B-brush… hair-" because to him, it seemed like a very appropriate thing to say.

Light's eyebrow got lost somewhere in his hairline and he miscounted a few beats in L's pulse… which didn't make much difference because there was barely any pulse to begin with.

"Up," he ordered, dragging L to his feet, and a petty thing like L's legs not really listening didn't stop him from slinging L's arm over his shoulder and dragging him five floors down the half-collapsed staircase and into the mostly undamaged basement.

L said something about Light's hair products.

After setting L on the couch – one of three pieces of furniture that that belonged to the construction crew before the construction was abandoned, and the only piece of furniture locked in the basement that survived the explosion above – Light went to fetch tea. Impressed by his own resourcefulness, Light pulled out a kettle, a large water bottle, two traveling mugs and a box of Black Tea in teabags from his tennis gym bag. When he plugged the kettle into the power outlet and it miraculously worked (just like their shower miraculously worked also), Light thought he deserved applause.

L immediately noticed a few things that made his unhappy cheeks even puffier, one of them probably being the fact that Light pulled out no sugar from his magic tennis bag. Secretly, Light snickered when L pretended to be indifferent to the lack of sugar.

"This tea is in teabags. I refuse to drink this tea that comes from teabags and is served in metal containers."

"Ha ha ha," said Light.

"Ah, but I am not joking," said L.

"Honey, if your blood pressure drops any lower, I'll have to call the hospital and ask them to take you back after you hijacked a helicopter just to get discharged. If you want that heart of yours-"

"_Thing_," L corrected.

"-if you want that heart _thing_ of yours to keep beating, you will drink my tea that by the way I made with _love_, just for _you_."

L frowned and the corners of his lips wrinkled and pointed downward in clear displeasure.

"Right, honey?" Light demanded.

"…fine," L grumbled, sounding sourer than ever.

Since L looked particularly hostile, Light chose to keep his distance while he waited for the kettle to boil.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel very tired and unhappy," L complained, still frowning.

This time, Light frowned too.

"Shouldn't have pulled you out of the hospital so soon. L, I honestly didn't know-"

"It is perfectly fine. Regardless of my state, I could not possibly get out of there soon enough. It was truly terrible-"

"Because they didn't let you have gummy bears?"

"Because everywhere I went, there were constant reminders of how terrible I felt when I could remember nothing, and as my memories were returning, it was terrible to know that there were a certain things I did not even know I did not know. Even now."

Light resisted an urge to ask L if he had feelings, instead he said, "look. I honestly didn't know how bad you were until now. But that's fine, I just need you to stand aside for the whole NPA business, I'll handle it quickly, okay?"

"Light-kun," L groaned, ready for another ending-related tirade, but Light shrugged him off with a wave of his own self-pity.

"I knew I should've stuck to the actual plan and saved the FBI/NPA heist for later. I honestly didn't know it was too early for you, but when you let me know you already had most of your memories back, I figured you were okay."

"I am almost surprised they missed it," L droned. "Amnesia patients cannot imagine their futures."

"And what about my nice touch with the magical zebra informant?"

"Matt will be upset with you again."

When Light seemed to be lost in an unpleasant memory, L tried to salvage the conversation.

"Is Light-kun not going to tell me the Devi's Trill?"

"My version or your version?"

"Whichever version Light-kun pleases."

"Are you actually going to listen or are you going to brood?"

"I shall brood until I am content."

Light told him to drop the brooding and go take a shower.

L refused.

Light told him he should move to make space, but L was very uncooperative.

Light sighed, and glared.

L sat directly in the middle of the couch just where Light had planted him earlier, with his dirty arms wrapped around his knees and his dirty hands latched tightly onto his pants. His eyes were liquid black slits, burning holes into the bright red kettle on the floor as it boiled and steamed. He looked quite pathetic and aware of his appearance completely.

"You look pathetic," Light couldn't help rubbing it in.

Instead using his words, L snatched a water bottle and chucked it at Light.

The surprisingly heavy projectile hit him square in the ribs, and Light was about to return the package to the sender's _head, _but then he noticed L resumed his pathetic knee-hugging and kettle-glaring position like picking a fight with Light wasn't his intention.

"Oh my _god_," Light realized, forgetting all about disciplining L into a civilized human being, "you're sulking. You're _actually_ sulking!"

L wanted to send Captain Obvious some more regards with another water bottle but did not find one within his proximity. Instead, he settled on scratching one of his impossibly dirty feet with another and making a thin noise at the back of his throat.

"Perhaps Light-kun has forgotten, but I am L. _L_ does not inhabit warehouse wreckages, Mello does this. This," and L glared at the kettle with such passion that the automated temperature button clicked and signaled Light that the water inside reached the boiling point, "is very _below_ my _style_."

For a moment, Light was at loss of words, but eventually he settled for laughing, and he laughed whole-heartedly as he poured water over L's teabag. L did not find it amusing in the least and continued burning holes in the kettle – and Light wasn't sure why, maybe because L was sulking and Light felt a little bad for him, but instead of delivering a mug of steaming hot and bitter tea just to spite L, Light fished sugar out of his tennis bag and added enough of it to possibly kill a small animal. He didn't even know he packed sugar.

_Oh well,_ he thought as he held it by the rim as he politely offered it to L, and after glaring at the criminal tea for a moment, L reached out for it with both hands.

Aside from it being unintentionally cute, Light noticed the tips of L's fingers still trembling around the mug. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, nudged L to the side and planted himself next to the sulking pile of injustice. It almost made L drop his mug and take a scorching tea bath, so Light supported the mug and guided it to L's lips.

Drinking strong tea with three hands made it much easier for L, and apparently made him mope even more.

"Come _on_-" Light tried, but L huffed displeasure immediately.

"I do not care for what Light-kun has to say, this is inexcusably _lame_."

"Just this one time, you can be lame."

"I am never leaving living arrangements up to Light-kun again."

"Alright, alright," Light chuckled, and L took another brooding sip. "It's only for a few more hours, you can do it. Be a sport."

The porcelain skin of L's thin nose wrinkled and Light imagined L's non-existent eyebrows furrow. "No," he refused.

Light no-longer cared, instead, intrigued, he reached for L's face.

Now suspicious, L leaned away.

"What is Light-kun doing?"

"Show me your eyebrows," Light demanded seriously.

L blinked his narrowed eyes away into owlish and confused ones.

"…no."

As Light was stubbornly leaning in, L almost spilled his tea on both of them, so Light plucked the mug from L's hands and put it away on the floor, crawling over L as he did it.

"Do you have eyebrows, L?"

Threatened, L continued to lean away and eventually found himself flat on his back on the dusty fabric of the couch, with Light hovering over his eyebrows, ready to brush his bangs away. So pathetic, sulky, and probably not in any state to defend his eyebrows, L did the only logical thing left.

He smacked the palms of his hands over his eyebrows, hiding them.

Light chuckled as L stared up at him through mockingly alarmed liquid-black eyes. He took the two silky wrists in his own hands, and instead of prying them form L's face, he leaned in and kissed his cool lips softly.

L's eyes drifted shut as his lips moved below Light's own, and eyebrows forgotten, L's hands found themselves threading through silky auburn strands of hair.

As their lips danced across soft skin and their hands ghosted over dirty clothes, Light wondered if L wanted to roll them over. But the semi-dazed man didn't seem to care for anything other than nibbling on the sensitive skin of Light's jawbone and making him arch his hips into his hand, so the brunette settled for rubbing his knee on the fabric of L's crotch.

Instead of moaning, L pleasantly purred against Light throat, and seeing it as encouragement, Light's hands got more aggressive, bolder. It wasn't L pushing Light down or guiding him through the merits of his own body, it was Light giving L pleasure through his clothes and small patches of exposed skin.

Their kisses became more heated and L, with his eyes screwed tightly shut, gave up on fiddling with Light's clothing in favor of draping one arm over the brunette head and using it as leverage to press his cheek to a warmer one.

Still teasing a tiny nipple under L's ruined shirt, Light watched in wonder as L's jean-clad legs fell apart and pulled Light's body between, and a hand pushed down on his waist to ensure contact of their semi-erect and clothed members.

L purred again when a warm hand slid under the hem of his jeans and ran down his aching length. Hot and pulsating, it twitched in Light's fist and precum ran down his fingers.

"I never realized you were so easy," Light whispered into L's ear because L still refused to let their heads separate.

"I am not easy," L whispered back, and to Light's surprise there was no hint of daze in his voice, no sexual haze, no desperate need, nothing like that. It was just pleasure mixed with confidence, and if it wasn't for those two almost passive emotions, Light would have stopped his hand and demanded L told him what was wrong.

Sensing this, L freed one hand and helped Light unzip his own jeans before joining Light's hand on his throbbing erection and guiding it over the sensitive parts and showing him the strokes that forced L to actually moan.

To Light's dismay, L was still teaching him.

Even in his current state of tired, disoriented, weak and soft putty, ready to melt into Light's hand, even completely passive under Light's dominating touch, L still was _better_ than Light, L still dared to teach Light how to please him. He held onto Light's shoulder, pressing their foreheads together and keeping his eyes shut as Light watched faint emotion flash on his pale face, unable to kiss or bite or do _anything_. All while L's skilled hand guided his own hand down L's silky length, showing him, _teaching him_ how to _tease_. Not to make L come hard, not to force screams of pleasure out of him, but to tease. Slowly stroking down, squeezing the base and releasing, gliding down the underside, playing with the tip...

L moaned and pulled on the brunette locks, and Light watched the chapped lips take quiet puffs of air. A tiny bean of sweat rolled down the thin porcelain nose.

"What _are_ you doing," Light whispered in wonder after a thin whimper caused by scraping his fingernails down L's length.

"'Stand-ing aside and… and letting Light-kun h-h-handle the NPA business- ah, _quickly_-'" L quoted back, huffing softly and almost whimpering.

"Ah," said Light in amusement. "Gotcha."

The hand tangled in auburn hair tugged and dragged Light's head down to face L's weeping erection, and Light realized this was yet another way L was telling him to shut up and stop talking during sex.

Ah, well in that case, Light put his mouth to better use.

He lapped up the bitter precum before allowing his mouth to engulf the hot tip. L whimpered softly when warm lips wrapped half-way around his shaft and teeth dragged down its length slowly as Light sucked and pulled the organ out of his mouth.

_Slow_.

Light delivered pleasure with agonizing slowness, and L purred and occasionally moaned, and absolutely refused to nudge Light to go faster; his slow release was so close that the back of his mind was already cloudy and sleepy despite a warm cavern overwhelming most of his pleasure sensors.

High above him, Light heard desperate wheezing, and jagged fingernails dug into his shoulders hard.

L came with a long "aaah" that sounded like it was boiling deep in his throat for the entire duration of their encounter. No, not 'came,' Light realized. _Melted_.

Light lapped and swallowed, trying not to think about it, and just when he was about to zip the fly of L's jeans, soft fingertips brushed down his chin and guided him to crawl over L once again.

"Do you want to know what that was?" L asked, brushing his thumb over the side of Light's mouth. When the fingertip left, Light realized there was a streak of white on it, and he felt very silly, embarrassed even. L pushed the thumb to the brunette's swollen lips, and Light licked it off. "It was _you_, all you."

"What?"

"_You_ wanted to outdo me ever since you and I met, Light. You always tried being better, doing all but what I have expected from you. I can tell you one thing: you have definitely outdone yourself. I have done nothing since I met you, I _was_ and I _am_. You changed, many times, and I cannot say that I like what you've changed into, however I am here to face the facts. You adapted around _me_, and you want to be better than me. You want to be in charge."

"I-"

"Light will not interrupt me when I'm talking."

L took a short pause, and as the quiet echo of his monotone drone died out, Light realized he obeyed and stayed quiet without ever realizing it. It seemed that L took the pause just to let that sink in.

"And," L continued, "I do not think it is a good idea to let you play out your game with the NPA, nor do I think it is a good idea to let you be in charge. However, despite my better judgment, I shall let you… because I think you are still trying to play a game with _me_. I do not know what it is, but whatever it is, I just do _not_ think you will be able to handle winning it."

Light just grinned.

"Oh, but wait 'till you see it!"

"I have a feeling Light-kun will not make me wait for long," a scowl returned to L's face, and before L resumed sulking and glaring at the food-related items that did not meet his standards, Light stretched out suggestively.

"About the 'being in charge' thing-"

L groaned and shoved Light's face away with a dirty hand.

"Later. Next month. I have a headache. Go away, Light-kun," was L's reply which roughly translated to 'ha ha _ha_, never.'

Light rolled his eyes and rolled off L, grabbed spare clothing and went to wash off the ash that now thanks to L was caked onto his skin with sweat. He plotted how to get L into the shower as well; they both had to look presentable for when his father got there.

* * *

A/N: Okie-dokie. Sorry, the first ending was terribad. Kinda like these parts, but terribad. I was fixing it and then I just gave up. REWRITE LOL.

Since if something else I will die of sleep, I'll just _**GIVE SHOUTOUTS TO ALL THE PATIENT REVIEWERS WHOM I LOVE AND WERE PATIENT AND I AM SLEEPY WUT. THNAK YOUS GO TO:**_ **SeldomFollowIt, L. Lamperouge, sillyharriet, Namean, Critical Stupidity, Waraigoto, masumi-san, Zaara, Zeat, shadowclaw6, Solisortiri, PunPunMatt, Gravefire, CallMeYourLover, Oooglybooogly boo, CrimsonInkBlackBlood, HNKNA LoVeR, , Tuesday, Chi-chan, M.S, ds, themusicalmuffin, Solesse, XxxxdarkSide22xxxX, Turtle-chan in Blue, mudkiprox, selene Crystgal wings, Sadistic-kin, FloorLou, amarinta453, jamc91, Kritik, Review giver personal, SugarCoatedGenius, Dottayy, xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox, Canderjack, Supergeak, KarukiSilverRain, Ms Random Freak, skyemeunet, NG, The Sora-muffin, Dark Green Poop, Celyan, Desdemona Kakalose, It Which Lives Under Your Bed, fanfan31, Nardaviel, Altair718, reeri, Neylian, Behan, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, Sanzo4ever, TheRoseByAnyOtherName, DNLover02, xkuroxshinobix, Jetta, SassyMuse, Sovoyita, Kaaycie, incandescentglow, Keyinei, BloodyShinigami, ArtistOfLight, s3v3n-d34d1135 , YourBestFriend4, ellan54, Anemone Kurosaki, Your Fan, PaperMasque, My Favorite Crooked Smile, merichuel, angellovedark, Nooo!, TwiAniJayFan, Rin5o, Blind Justice, ., Huehuetecti, Cakeat, Jabba, Empty Melodies **and **Fouloldron**.

I mean, shit guys. XD

**Special Thanks** to the following people who kicked me to update: **secretskept** and **CuddlingL**.

**This person... well, you guys own her a gift basket or something, because if it wasn't for her insistence, this update wouldn't've come: send gift baskets to **_**Nardaviel. **_**I love you.**

I MEAN, SHIT GUYS, 1018 REVIEWS ARE YOU KIDDING ME /nosebleed!

But alas, almost there and I have a schedule. August 27th – update. If someone can guess why – brownie points. 3

The word DT ends with is "_truth."_

**CH33: Devil's Trill - pt. 2**

**l**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	33. Devil's Trill, pt 2

_**Disclaimer: **__My name is King, THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY MOM WHOSE BIRTHDAY WAS AUGUST 27th! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! (thank god my mom will never read any of this), and I do not own Death Note. _

**Devil's Trill**

**CH33**

**Devil's Trill, pt. 2**

L was asleep.

L slept on the dusty orange couch; the spot where his head rested against his wrist and the couch arm was soaked through with water from L's damp hair, but that didn't disturb L's sleep in the slightest. Seeing L sleep killed all will Light had in him to thoroughly nag about the wet hair, killed all will to nag about anything, really, or to be difficult, or to do anything but stare at the man's peaceful face.

It wasn't fair.

Without the tension in his face that Light suspected was due to forcing his eyes wide-open and unblinking, L looked peaceful, like a spoiled, overgrown child he was supposed to be.

A lock of black hair, thick with moisture, slid down the porcelain skin, and L wrinkled his nose, as if instinctively sniffing it or something, and relaxed again.

The open palm, resting close to where the lock had fallen flexed too, and L's delicate fingertips twitched.

_Nail-biter_.

_Gross, ill-mannered, ignorant overgrown man-child nail-biter who had never heard of fashion or ironing clothes or brushing hair. _

But asleep, none of that mattered. Asleep, L wasn't a disappointment in every aspect imaginable, both as a world-class criminal or a human being; asleep L was just an ideal.

A precious ideal, the only thing Light had left to cling to.

And ideal he couldn't kill or destroy, an ideal he couldn't escape – because he had nowhere and nobody else to run to, but an ideal he could definitely _hurt_. An ideal he could suppress and surpass. And he will, in a little bit, he-

Light wanted to kiss L, and suddenly his head was blank of all odd thoughts that weren't really his own.

Suddenly, the dusty orange couch that wasn't really orange because of the dirt and the dust wasn't so appalling anymore. Suddenly, he wanted to kiss him instead of telling L that if he took a shower and changed clothes only to roll around that couch again, there would be no point at all in showering in the first place.

Because L was the only one who could make him _stop_.

_Stop the-_

"L," Light heard his own voice as he crossed the distance between the couch and a much cleaner sitting blanket he set up on the floor, "_L. _Ryuzaki. Can I kiss you?"

Of course, L continued his precious sleep, so gingerly, Light crouched near the dusty couch. L's breaths were shallow, but Light' breath apparently reached L's hand because the fingertips with bitten nails twitched again.

_Leave him alone, _Light heard himself think, but just like the words he had said, the thoughts sounded very distant, like they weren't his thoughts or his voice.

Shrugging it off, he took L's hand into his own, and squeezed it and pecked the cool, smooth skin of L's porcelain cheek.

Instantly L declared, "I was not sleeping!" and before the man even woke up, Light found a hand on his neck. Just as quickly though, it slid to his shoulder as if L's initial response to being woken up wasn't self-defense, but rather holding Light's shoulder for some reason.

"Light-kun," L cleared his throat. "I apologize, I have forgotten what the conversation was about. Light-kun was saying..?"

Light wanted to laugh, to make fun of L's sleeping habits, but instead he managed what he wanted to say, but just barely.

"L, I really need to tell you something. Right now… I know you're tired, but please."

L's still sleepy and mildly confused face immediately settled on being neutral and wary.

"What is going on with Light-kun?"

"L, not right now, I just need to tell you-"

"What?"

"The Devil's Trill-"

"Light-kun-"

"Now, please. _Now_."

It surprised Light how desperate he sounded, and over what? Over some story? Now, of all other times? Now, why _now, _why _now_, in the last possible moment? He hadn't even thought about it, he didn't even want to tell L, not really.

But then if he told L, maybe, just maybe, L could make it _stop_.

"Alright, Light-kun, I-" but Light shrugged him off, literally dragged him to sit up and practically jumped on his lap. "Al…right?"

"Alright. I need to tell you. The Devil's Trill. Before I… yes. I have to tell you now. I will tell you my version of the Devil's Trill. Well... my version has four parts. It starts with a problem, the problem of Evil. There once was a man, and he played the violin like you wouldn't believe it. He was ambitious and he reached high, and the higher he got, the more he fell in love with himself. There were better violinists around, violinists he should have respected, but he only praised himself. Soon, his self-love turned into blind oblivion; praise brought him only boredom and sadness, and to escape realizing that he was not the best, he eventually broke himself and just… died. The problem was, he was not evil. Evil and the man existed, but separately, and so the man had a problem because when he died and was sent to Heaven, he was not Evil. He became Evil in Heaven, and it was the kind of paradox that attracted the Devil to him."

"Light-kun has really thought this out."

"I was at a hospital for months, and I had nothing better to do. You gave me the story, and I solved it. Second part?"

"Light-kun thinks this is very impor-" but Light started talking quickly again, barely pausing to regain his breath.

"The second part is about the Devil, and the things that were important to him. Things important to the Devil were things he could get away with. He did what he wanted, and he liked to prank Heaven just because he could. Otherwise, why else would he bother going through all that trouble to talk to God just to get one insignificant little selfish soul in trouble? So the Devil convinced God to give an audience to one of the man's violin pieces because for the Devil, there would be no consequences. If the man passed the test, God would've just wasted His time. If the man failed the test, God will be upset He let an Evil person through the Heaven's gates. But the Devil, with his meddling, forgot the things important to him. The Devil forgot that everything he did had to come with no consequences for himself. The Devil _forgot_-"

"Light-kun, please take time to _breathe_!"

"Not important L, don't you... we already figured out that The Devil is you, and the man, Tartini, is supposed to be me and-"

But seeing no other way to stop him, L simply clamped a hand over Light's mouth. Moments, precious moments Light could spend telling L the damn story were ticking away.

"Light-kun, please. You must forget that story and all associations you have made with it! I did not know, I promise you, but had I known _this _was the extent of the seriousness with which you have taken it, I would have never-"

"No! L, don't you- it's the story. Without this story, I would've never ran away to look for the blonde in Tsuwano, without the story I would've never... those people... and just now in the hospital, I would've never... I wouldn't be able to-!"

"Light-kun... this story. It justifies everything _you_ have done?"

"Yes!"

Light's cry of 'yes' echoed through the dusty basement, and Light clamped his own hand over his mouth this time. Under his palm, he found moisture. He was crying.

"No..." he whimbered. Justifying... what had he done? What was there to justify? Did he really-

"Light-kun." L sounded firm, and his hands squeezing both of Light's shoulders felt firm. L pushed him away at an arm's length distance, much like his father did when he scolded him when Light was little.

His father… oh _no_-

But Light found his hand still gripping his mouth shut and couldn't _tell_, and L wasn't exactly giving him room to speak.

"Light. Whatever we are here for, forget about it. Forget about it all. Abandon all plans you have here, and let's just _go_. Let's _leave_. Just you and I, and no silly story is allowed to follow us. Just walk away, with me. Right now."

Light nodded vigorously, again realizing it was him who was nodding only after the fact. The hand he kept over his mouth was slippery and wet from the tears.

Leave.

Walk away.

He wanted to, more than anything.

And there was L, telling him he could just stop.

Stop.

_Stop_.

L pulled him into a hug... a hug.

L was hugging him, holding him, letting him cry, and Light realized just how dreadful he must have looked to get L to actually for once hold him and comfort him-

And then-

"Shh, someone is coming," L hissed, suddenly anxious and alert.

Light pried the hand from his face, "of course someone's coming. The NPA-"

"How did the NPA find us here?"

Light felt his tears stop, and his face suddenly went lax.

"I led them here."

_Stop. _

"Light-kun..." L mouthed wearily, and his grip over Light's shoulder's didn't feel as comforting or protective anymore, "what did you _do_?"

But Light was already off the couch and fishing for a gun in his tennis bag, one he must have stolen from the guards at the hospital.

_Resourceful._

L was immediately up and behind him, pulling out his own gun he also took from one of the dead guards from the hospital, and when Light turned around to face him, L wasn't aiming the gun at him – not yet at least, but L made it clear enough he would not trust Light to be the only one in this place with a gun this time. He also took a few steps back for a good measure, knowing well that the further he was, the worse Light's aim got.

Out of all things L planned to work on with Light, the brunette's aim wasn't one of them.

Still, despite the sour development and the odd _calm_ expression on Light's face, L almost demanded, "Light-kun, we are leaving."

"Right after I finish this."

Light's tears dried very quickly, L realized.

"Light-kun, no. Just _now_you were-"

"Never mind. You said you'd let me do this, let me be in charge of things for once, to see how I would do. Well, this is it. Trust me."

L did not trust Light's judgment.

He was right not to and he shouldn't have let things progress, but at that time, against his better judgment, he let Light do as he pleased, and soon found himself tracing the steps of what were apparently two NPA officers climbing the stairs of the warehouse wreckage.

L had a good feeling who they were.

Touta Matsuda and Soichiro Yagami stood exactly where L had stood hours ago, and months ago before that. They stood confused but determined in the middle of half-cleared debris, surrounded by yellow evidence markers, burned concrete and half-melted metal beams of the fifth floor of the fateful warehouse.

They followed the smudges in the ash he and Light left just hours ago.

"Someone was here," Matsuda was saying to the frowning chief of police, "two of them, very recently."

Briefly, for just one moment that passed as fast as Light changed faces, L wondered if Light managed to fool him twice – with two identical scams the first of which made him to nearly dead and left him completely heartless – pun intended.

But that wasn't the case; if L was obsessed enough to be fooled twice, Light certainly wasn't stupid enough to try.

No, Light wasn't lying.

_Alright, _I admitted to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. Light was _always _lying. But not then, and not just ten minutes ago when he genuinely agreed to leave everything and just come away with L.

L could tell; just ten minutes ago, Light wanted to go as far away as he could as fast as L would take him, and now while spying on the two tragic survivors of the NPA's L Investigation Team from behind a charred wall skeleton, Light wanted nothing more than to stay and keep L watching.

Watching what? Was L supposed to stand aside and observe the caramel-eyed teen as he shifted his multiple personalities and played blind, blonde and bipolar?

The two NPA members shuffled around kicked over some ashes, L wondered what Light's "worst" was supposed to be. Half-crazy and overly emotional, Light could kick up some dirt, point fingers and play the blame-game. If it were anyone but his father, Light could and would most likely shoot them.

But around Soichiro Yagami, Light could only shout accusations and stomp feet.

If only L had enough time to yank Light away before the NPA showed up, it would have been almost like Light went with L out of choice rather than having no other place to go to.

_Hmm… _L cursed the NPA's terrible timing.

If neither of them were at the warehouse wreckage full of all and stale memories that left a bitter aftertaste in L's mouth, but instead in a car or a plane or just walking away from this mess, Light would be pondering his resolve to hate L for the rest of his life right about now. If L's luck was still generous, eventually Light would accept L and they would both be able to have some peace.

But they weren't walking away through fields of flowery forever after. L was still hiding behind the creepy wall, Matsuda was still tripping over dust, the chief was still brooding, and Light was –

Light was walking out into the open, aiming his gun directly at the air behind his father.

_Well, this is embarrassing,_ L thought, so he improved Light's aim by standing next to the fake-brunette and aiming his own gun properly.

Matsuda and the chief drew their weapons before anything was even said.

And then-

"How _dare_ you, you-" and then came the shouting and the gun pointing, and the accusations, and L got bored very quickly.

"Al_right_!" he snapped rather loudly as Soichiro was explaining to Light in great detail what he thought of him and his mass-murdering stunts, and Light was explaining to his father what he thought of him and his policing, all in the most uncivilized manner, L found, and Matsuda was standing awkwardly without a clue as to how he should react. They all stopped having their one-sided conversations at once, because L was told that when he raised his voice, he sounded very compelling.

"Thank you," he reverted back to a steady drone, "as it is obvious to me that Yagami-san will not shoot his son, and Light-kun cannot possibly shoot Yagami-san at such distant range of three feet, I suggest the two of you put your guns away before Matsuda-san loses an eye."

According to the identical expressions of the two Yagami, L must have said something astonishing. Until Matsuda said something even better.

"Hey, does he still have amnesia?"

"Yes," droned L, "but apparently 'his' hearing is just fine."

But Soichiro Yagami elected to be as stubborn as his son.

"I would never shoot my son, ever! You," and he gestured to his son, "are _not_ my son!"

_Great,_ L thought.

"Tiger father begets tiger son," Light retorted.

_Both Yagami are philosophers. Just great. _

And then Light misfired his gun in attempt to explain more things to his father, by accident, and Matsuda almost lost an eye.

"Enough," L scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "We are at impasse. Light-kun will not harm his father-"

"-you expect too much of him," the chief grunted.

"and Yagami-san will clearly not shoot his son despite everything Light-kun has done. Matsuda is very confused but will not do anything drastic unless he is free of Yagami-san's guidance. None of you are capable of firing your weapons at each other. With everyone's best interest in mind, I suggest you all disarm before your argument – and it appears Light-kun has summoned the two of you here to have a petty argument –gets heated enough to cause accidental injuries. Please hand your weapons to me."

"Right. To _you_?"

"As I am the one most annoyed by this situation, yes, to _me_."

"L," Matsuda called on L, but became distracted as he took pause to let the name sit on his tongue. "You are _really_ L, aren't you?"

"Yes, Matsuda," L was not amused.

"Right_, L_," Matsuda's confusion quickly turned into a much overdue caution, "you and Raito… already picked off every other member of the team. Mogi. Aizawa. Ide. All dead. Because of you two. If it's my turn, the last thing I'm doing is giving you my gun. Stay back!" Matsuda directed his gun at both L and Light in a fair warning.

L bit the fingernail of his lonely free hand without a companion gun to entertain it. He looked at the ceiling.

"To be perfectly fair, if I wanted Matsuda-san dead, Matsuda-san would drop dead... now, _bang!_"

Matsuda and Light almost _jumped_.

"It seems to me Matsuda-san is alive. It appears I do not find Matsuda-san important enough to be disposed of. As for Yagami-san, I think I have taken a particular liking to him, considering my response to Yagami-san's heart-attack."

In truth, honest truth, L was falling asleep where he stood. His responses were delayed and he was just too tired for this. He could most likely take on both NPA members, but it was clearly against Light's wishes, and L would rather not test out his abilities only to find out he was too sick to respond to danger in a timely manner.

And to be technical, Light and his father _were_ at a stalemate.

"I suggest Light-kun stops threatening the wall behind Matsuda-san first. Light-kun, please disarm."

Eventually, he convinced them all to take turns, much like he did with Mello and Matt when their arguments became armed with more than nasty words.

L was last to kick his own gun away. If he kept it, this whole ridiculous example of extremely bad father/son suspect pursuit and investigation would never end.

"He is-" the NPA chief began addressing Light and referring to L, but as soon as L was even hinted at, Light resumed ranting expressively, just without poor aim to reinforce his point.

"Oh _no_, dad. Father – Chief… whatever! No. Don't you tell me about _him_, I tried telling you about him from the beginning, you could've protected me, but you wouldn't listen, and when the fuckin' FBI finally made you listen, you locked me the hell away in that hotel room, where nobody could fuckn' protect me either! And when nobody could do anything at all, I shot him! And then what? I had to sit around and wait for a trial because after all that _nobody still would fucking believe me_!"

"Don't you think I know I failed you as a father? I know! And I tried, Raito – I really did, but at the end police failed you too – but that was the point, you _knew_ about inadequate policing, that's why you studied and studied all your life and strived to enter police force _and make it better_! And look at what you've done instead!"

"I protected myself because nobody else would!"

"And how many innocent people did you use as bullet shields to protect yourself? Who was supposed to protect them from _you_? What kind of _justice_ is this, Raito?"

And Light shouted, for the first time losing control over his smooth and loud vocals, and actually shouting, hoarse and bitter and everything.

"This isn't justice anymore! This is _vengeance_!"

_Oh, _L mentally rolled his eyes. Finally some sense started coming out of that boy; a little more where that came from, and Light would start growing daisies from his ears.

"Very soon, you will come to an unexpected realization," L remarked smartly.

"We could really do without the fortune-cookie commentary," Matsuda barked, and L found himself outwitted by Matsuda second day in a row.

He made a face.

"Excuse me, Matsuda-san, Yagami-san, Light-kun, but I am finding myself rather bored with this exchange, perhaps Light-kun could get to the point? Presuming there is a point somewhere in all of this, of course…"

"Yes, Raito," Soichiro breathed through his nose noisily, "Why don't you get to the point? Why did you bring me here, after all this is over, what are you going to do? You can't hide anywhere-"

"-I'm gonna go with him!"

"With him? So you aren't protecting yourself anymore, are you? Go with him and do what?"

"I don't know!"

"You going to disappear, is that it? Blow this place up again, bribe the autopsy doctors and make it look like we all died here so he can take you God-knows where and _do_ God-knows _what _to you_?_"

L frowned.

"Light-kun and I have each tried faking our deaths already. Needless to say, we are not very good at it."

Light glared.

"But you're good at making deaths happen, and not fake ones, aren't you? Why don't you actually start backing up that reputation of yours – I haven't seen a shred of it since I met you! So start killing people or something!"

Hmm, so Light was subtly asking _L_ to murder Soichiro and Matsuda? No, L wouldn't care enough to, and considering Light had to ask, Light wouldn't dare to even think about it himself.

"I rather like both Matsuda-san and Light-kun's father, I would rather not."

"You _like_ them?"

"Indeed, I do."

"Oh, well let me tell _you_ something, then-"

And thus L became the new target of Light's speech war.

"-about Devil's Trill."

"Oh no," L squinted at an oncoming headache and scratched his temple, "not _this_ again…"

"Part three and four-"

With a sour and guilty-but-not-really expression, L turned to the two enraged and mildly confused NPA officers.

"If Yagami-san and Matsuda-san have brought sandwiches, right now is the time to eat them…"

"The third part," Light started, immediately sounding out of breath, "is about the actual Devil's Trill. It was the only Evil thing ever to be born in heaven; it wasn't carried there, no, it was born there. The man did his best – and I mean the very best he capable of – it was his _masterpiece_, it was his moment of truth. And his masterpiece _still_ failed to impress God, and it still failed to defeat the Devil."

As Light spoke, well, stuttered through his words more like, he was looking at L. It was like Light was also pretending – pretending they were alone somewhere outside, away from the dumbfounded NPA. Because even then, the two NPA members in the room with two murderers weren't really NPA – they were just two men who surrendered their guns, one an enraged father, and one a disappointed acquaintance.

And yet, even that wasn't enough. Light wasn't looking at them as he was telling L his pet-story. The two men listening in ceased to exist in Light's mind as he ranted; it was only Light, and L, and nobody else existed.

"…Because Devil's Trill is a Sonata written to _defeat_ the Devil. Ironic, don't you think? If the man wasn't aware the Devil put God up to granting him an audience, why did he write something that made him feet a _trill_? He must have felt a challenge as he wrote his Sonata, and knowing well that God wouldn't bother challenging him, he must have figured out that at some point, it was the Devil behind the whole idea. And yet. As beautiful and brilliant as his masterpiece was, the man still _lost_."

L was vaguely aware Soichiro Yagami was saying something the whole time Light was talking, but with every pause for breath or effect Light didn't take, L found himself submerged deeper into Light's world of only two people.

"The fourth part – the part where God was _enraged_ and returned the man back to life, the part where the Devil failed things that were important to him and started _caring_ enough to bait the man with the original Devil's Trill, and the part where the man _repeated_ the exact same mistakes that killed him in his first attempt at living... it's the part where everyone lost something. It's about Tartini and how he failed to cope."

Light was done.

And he wasn't crying this time.

"Light-kun," L said simply, "why is the NPA here?"

"I brought them here so you can figure something just for once!"

"And just what might that be, Light-kun?"

"Who can the Devil never defeat?"

"The God?"

"And if I'm Tartini," and which L turned to the NPA again and shook his head, resisting an urge to smack his hand against his forehead," and you're the Devil, who's God, then?"

Well... L figured, he had to humor Light or else this insanity and absurdity would never end. He thought about it. If God first appeared in the third part, it had something to do with the Devil's Trill melody itself, and so, what did Light consider his greatest masterpiece that was never as good as it should have been because L simply bested him?

_Oh. _

Oh _crap_.

It clicked – every piece clicked together and formed a full picture of the outcome Light was building up for – one L didn't think he would see again

_This_ place.

The wreckage of the abandoned warehouse where Light had bet everything; where he masterminded every single detail of his greatest game to the best of his ability, all for the sake out out-doing L... and even with his best-laid plans, L somehow managed to be better and survive.

_Oh_ this was _not good_. L bit his lip. Back then, Light didn't need to _shoot_, all he needed to do was to get L's _confession_. He shot because he was trying to be better than God, be better than...

"The NPA is the God of the story," L droned, now annoyed with himself as much as he was annoyed with Light. "Specifically Light's father."

_There._

Light's vengeful and angry face changed again, changed so drastically that L imagined Light shifting Shakespearian drama masks, and behind him, the raving audience clapped and clapped away, applauding Light's brilliant performance.

Suddenly, Light was calm and satisfied, suddenly, Light's hand reached behind his back where, tucked discreetly behind in his belt, was a second gun.

Light lied that day again. He lied about many things.

How he didn't know what he would do after he went away with L, or how he was wronged by the NPA, or how he wanted to turn back time.

He lied about another thing.

He didn't misfire. He just wanted L to make everyone throw their weapons away.

It even _felt_ the same.

It was identical in every detail, and L still did not see it coming, even for the second time, and if there were third, L would still probably miss it altogether, because he could never change the way he saw Light.

And Light… Light subconsciously found his own soul when he admitted to carrying out vengeance instead of justice.

It was too late, but L finally paid mind to Light's Kira persona - in the end, the Kira persona was nothing but a self-defense mechanism, a mechanism meant to protect Light from rotting away in boredom, a mechanism triggered by an opportunity. Against boredom, fueled by L's little cat and mouse game, and grown out of psychological trauma, Light's justice ideals rotted away just as his character deteriorated. Until there was nothing left.

Not morals, not justice, not ideals, nothing even remotely righteous piloted Light now because none of these ideas survived. All Light had to cling to was a finished game – Light's and L's _finished_ game. Vengeance was groomed and harvested from a silly bedtime story about a Devil, a man, and an evil violin sonata.

L recalled every reference Light made to the Devil's Trill since his own supposed death at this very _spot_ – all hints that lead up to this moment, and there were dozens. And somehow, L managed to neglect seeing their significance every single time.

"L. L, I need you to tell me something," Light said evenly, with the half-grin frozen on his face the same way his gun's aim was frozen at his _father's head. _

If L closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Light's voice only, he imagined he would have had no trouble pretending they both were at a summer park, with the breeze gently ruffling their hair and the grass around them. Light would be talking about something shiny, carelessly laughing away like nothing in the world bothered him, and L would be content to slurp his ice-cream, listening to the chime of Light's voice. And then, just as happily, L imagined Light would stop, grin but feel dreadfully anxious on the inside, and tell L the same thing – _'L, I need you to tell me something,'_ and then Light would grin, nervously, with that boyish grin of his and a glimmer in his eyes that were all but lost to L now, and he would ask L if L loved him. Or at least liked. And L would say yes.

And both of them would feel happy.

But L kept his eyes open to the reality, for the first time in his life _regretting_ that he and Light would never be at a park together, carelessly laughing their troubles away, and wondering aloud if love was something that would last.

Instead of diet sugar-free ice-cream, Light had a gun in his hand.

"L," Light said cheerfully without moving his eyes from Soichiro's angry glare, "can you kill me?"

Instead of asking him about love, Light was asking him about an atrocity.

L pondered if this was a trick question, but it loomed over their party of four heavier than the threat of what Light was going to do to his own father whom L knew Light loved and respected and adored beyond anything else in the world.

"Why would I do that?"

"Hmm," Light hummed, thinking of ways to fish out a straight answer. "Suppose... I'm going to kill my _dad_, then shoot Matsuda, then turn around and kill you, kill you dead this time. I am telling you I will do this, and you should really believe me. Now, go ahead and kill me."

If they were back in L's park fantasy, L would sniffle and accuse Light of testing him.

Instead, L realized he knew the answer regardless if Light was serious about doing all that or not.

"No," L refused.

Light grinned wider, his pink lips stretching into a full-blown smile, a real smile. A careless, cute smile with a careless and whimsical air around it warmed up Light's face, and his eyes shone brightly.

Light was back.

L's Light was back.

_Oh. Oh wow_.

The beautiful, clever and pure boy L found so interesting was finally, _finally_ back.

His face was smooth and beautiful; the stray golden hairs brushed his eyelashes as gusts of wind blew airy puffs in his face, and with the serene and pleasant expression on his face, it was as if Light was back, telling L that everything would be back the way it should be.

For a moment, L felt happy.

_Bang_.

It echoed through L's perfect park with summer breeze and green grass and ice-cream, and the charming, laughing _boyfriend_ L adored so much did not stop grinning for a full minute, not as Soichiro's dead body hit the floor, not as Matsuda gasped, cursed and ran to aid the dead man, not as he flipped over the dead body of a loving father to find his eyes still open, forever frozen in the last image of disbelief that his beautiful son, smiling happily actually had it in him to squeeze the trigger.

And then, as L watched quietly from the sidelines, the beautiful smile washed off Light's face the same way a painted-on clown grin would stream away with rain water.

Slowly, Light's hands found their way to his silky honey hair, tangled and pulled. The angelic face contorted with something akin to anguish, and Light _screamed_, fell to his knees, and screamed again.

L wanted nothing more than to shut this all out, all of it.

He wanted to close his eyes, auto-pilot through the whole event, and wake up days later in Britain with dry biscuits and tea and facts about Mello's life he didn't really want to know.

Instead, as Light screamed on his knees, L was aware where he was and what he had to do, and took responsibility, even though it was much too late.

He sprinted to the pathetic figure, contorted on the ashy floor and shouting random syllables, and pried the warm gun from the clenched fingers and tangles of hair.

"Y-you bastards!" Matsuda finally managed to shout, furious and desperate over Soichiro Yagami's dead body. L's gun seemed to fade in his fury. "You motherfucking bastards god-damn you to hell!"

"Matsuda," L said, calm through both men's hysterics, "_Matsuda_."

"You son of a fucking bitch you cowardly piece of-"

"Matsuda, go. Just _go_."

There had been enough damage.

And Matsuda cursed them and begrudgingly fled, and L managed to reduce Light's screams into sobs as he fished in his backpack for a tranquilizer syringe. Light dropped unconscious right after L administered it.

L let this whole ridiculous and unnecessary game go too far for Light, and perhaps even too far for himself.

There had been enough damage.

_Enough_.

* * *

**A/n: **Soz a few days delayed. The final Chapter 34 is still scheduled for before Sept 7th, I hope.. I hopeIhopeihope **IHOP.** Pancaek...

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love you very much, all of you, forever! I'll be editing content, and doing other clean-up things pretty soon. Almost done!

OMGMGMG OMG INSTEAD I WANNA TALK ABOUT MY BIRFDAY! Which is today – Sept 3rd! Tee hee heet. 'Kay so I ordered a Devil's Trill song remix from my bffffforeverandever Lancie on Gaia and I got a WIP today and OMGGG it's so epic. Was it the remix that finally bulldozed me through the writer's block I had with about 200 words of this chapter that I couldn't make myself write no matter what? Yes. Yes it did. Song-chan Birfday! Tee heet. I know I sound like a retarded noob atm and my (probably nonexistent) ffn rep just went nine hundred points down, but it's my birfday so it's okay! A3A

**Make sure to drop me a review telling me what you thought of this chapter. And what you think the ending will be like. **

**And other stuff you want to tell me. **

**Devil's Trill, pt 3.**

l

l

l

V


End file.
